THE 



RHETORIC OF CONVERSATION: 

OR, 

BRIDLES AND SPURS 

FOR 

THE MANAGEMENT OF THE TONGUE. 



BY 

GEORGE WiifFRED HERVET, 

AUTHOR OF "THE PRINCIPLES OF COURTESY." 



"If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man."— James. 

Dicenda tacendaque ccdles ? — Persius. 

" Knowest thou when to speak and when to hold thy peace ?" 




NEW YORK: 
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

3 2 9 <fc 331 PEARL STREET, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 

1853, 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 
HARPER & BROTHERS, 
In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York. 



PREFACE. 



This work is the result of a purpose to write an original 
monograph on Conversation which should keep clear of all irrel- 
evant matter, and at the same time contain all the instruc- 
tion as to the art and ethics of talking that the most ambitious 
aspirant after colloquial excellence could reasonably desire. 
After some laborious research, the writer came to the conclu- 
sion that no complete work on this subject exclusively has 
ever been published in any country, not even in France, where 
Conversation is deservedly ranked among the arts. There are 
to be found, in several languages, short essays and chapters 
on this subject, some of which possess great merit, though 
many of them are vague and commonplace, some demoralizing, 
and all incomplete. Their incompleteness, however, should 
not keep any one from reading them, for though they are 
small, they all, except those that have an immoral tendency, 
help to cure the bad habits of talkers. The writer would 
apologise for them and for parts of his own work, in the well- 
known words of Galen, In medicind nihil exiguum: "In 
physic nothing is little." 



iv 



PREFACE. 



We have a variety of works on Rhetoric, which teach the 
art of speaking in public, but not one sufficient treatise on the 
art of speaking in the sundry circumstances of private and 
social life. Hitherto we have sought to make orators of the 
few rather than conversers of the many ; not duly considering 
that it is every way more desirable that the multitude of pri- 
vate citizens should talk well in their daily intercourse, than 
that a small number of orators should know how to address 
them on stated occasions. Even public speakers themselves 
would not find it amiss to acquire some skill in this art. 
Whatever design they would compass by their powers of ut- 
terance, they will, in the course of a life-time, make as many, 
if not as deep marks, on their generation by their frequent 
talks as by their few speeches ; nor let them indulge the no- 
tion that the gifts and acquirements which make them orators 
do necessarily make them conversers also. The two charac- 
ters are not often united in the same person ; for this reason, 
among others, that the habit of addressing public bodies, 
though favorable in some respects, is unfavorable in others to 
excellence in conversation. 

As all our great authorities in Ehetoric hold that the orator 
should be a good man, so we affirm, a little more explicitly, 
that the conversationist should be a man of evangelical piety. 
Whether the assertion of Theremin that " eloquence is a vir- 
tue," be true or untrue, depends on the meaning he attaches 
to the word eloquence : thus much, however, we do hazard, 
that the highest style of colloquial eloquence is the result of 
many virtues. 

Possibly some readers will meet with a few observations in 
this work which seem so agreeable to common sense, that they 



PREFACE. 



V 



may erroneously conclude that they had themselves previously 
made the like, or expressed in such simplicity and familiarity 
of style, that they may be ready to impute the same property 
to the thought. If they here read what their own observa- 
tion had before taught them, they ought at least to cheerfully 
allow us the good sense to be of their own opinion. These 
coincidences will settle them more firmly in the conviction of 
their own wisdom, and prepare them to act upon its dictates 
with more freedom and boldness. Should they recollect to 
have seen, as possibly they may, the substance of a few of the 
following admonitions in the writings of others, let them only 
the more highly prize and diligently heed them, now that they 
find them still haunting them in a different garb, and sup- 
ported by fresh sanctions. 

Let no one suppose that the author sets up for a conversa- 
tionist, or puts himself forth as an example in this particular. 
He knows better his own defects than to pretend to any 
such thing. While he can lay no claim to skill in the art of 
talking — as he is grievously unskilled in the art of holding 
his tongue, for that matter — yet he could wish that few would 
thence conclude him incompetent to give useful hints to those 
who are in all respects his superiors. Phoenix, who was 
chosen the companion of Achilles to teach him how to speak, 
never became so distinguished for eloquence as his heroic 
pupil. It does not require brilliant parts to be a successful 
instructor or a just critic. Machiavelli is of opinion that a 
person must be one of the people in order to judge properly 
of a prince. Even so it is not he who sways the colloquial 
sceptre that is always best prepared to discourse of intellectual 
kingcraft, but he who in the character of humble subject 



vi 



PREFACE. 



has been gladdened by bis clemency or troubled by his 
wrath. 

May that God who caused the scroll of the prophet to out- 
live the fire on the hearth of Jehoiakim the king, and moved 
the men of Ephesus to burn their magical books, either com- 
mand these pages to bear some humble part in teaching the 
art of conversing with propriety and profit, or speedily con- 
sign them to eternal forgetfulness. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER L 

Page 

Silence 11 

CHAPTER H 

Conversation in Peiyate and Domestic Life 25 

CHAPTER HL 

CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS WITH ONE ANOTHER 43 

CHAPTER 17. 
Sunday Conversation 67 

CHAPTER V. 

Conversation in General Society 67 

/ 

CHAPTER VI. 

Interviews with the Unbeliever relative to his Spiritual 

Interests 90 



viii 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Page 

Religious Conversation with Prejudiced Persons 123 

CHAPTER VHL 
Discussions 132 

CHAPTER IX. 
Reproof 163 

■ 

CHAPTER X. 

Flattery and Praise 183 

CHAPTER XI. 
Detraction and Scandal 19t 

CHAPTER XII. 
Interrogations 220 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Egotism and Boasting 22? 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Anecdotes and Stories 243 



CONTENTS. ix 

CHAPTER XV. 

Page 

"Wit and Pleasantry 256 

CHAPTER XVI. . 
The Style of Conversation 269 

CHAPTER XVH. 
Physical Habits in Conversation S90 

CHAPTER XVm. 
Preparation for Conversation 395 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Accompaniments of Conversation 315 

CHAPTER XX. 

A History of Certain Conversation-Clubs, with Sketches of 
the Conversation of Johnson, Hannah More, Coleridge, 

AND OTHERS 323 



CHAPTER I. 



SILENCE. 



Hahpocrates, the Egyptian god of silence, was 
represented holding one of his fingers on his mouth. 
He was almost the only heathen deity that ever and 
in the least degree deserved imitation ; and those 
who paid him divine honors, idolators though they 
were, do not appear to have been wholly lost to the 
charms of virtue. But useful as the idol may have 
been to remind men of the general duty of silence, 
it was deficient in this, that it did not exemplify the 
duty in a variety of circumstances. It was fixed in 
one posture on all occasions. It is the privilege of 
the Christian to copy an Exemplar who, though he 
spoke a great deal, knew when, where, and how, to 
be silent. "When the Scribes and Pharisees drew an 
adulteress into his presence, and began to ask imper- 
tinent and insidious questions, He made no reply, but 
stooped down and wrote on the ground, as though He 
heard them not. What wisdom, dignity, modesty, 
and tact ! This was the eloquence, not of words, but 
of action. When at the grave of Lazarus, his groans 
were interrupted by silent weeping, the Jews, look- 
ing upon his tears, could not help exclaiming, " Be- 
hold how he loved him !" When He was accused by 



12 



SILENCE. 



his enemies before the tribunal of Pilate, He answer- 
ed not a word. This was the eloquence of silent 
meekness, and so powerful was it that it filled the 
Roman governor with wonder. In the silent look, 
which was such a pathetic rebuke to Peter, there was 
an eloquence that has found no match in the history 
of human oratory. 

Great numbers have been ruined for the want of 
skill in the art of silence. Had Moses, the meekest 
of men, but suppressed his impatience in his own 
bosom, he might have been permitted to pass over 
to the land of promise. Had the children who met 
Elisha bowed before him in reverent silence, they 
would not have been torn in pieces. Had Michel 
abstained from a little persiflage, she might have 
been blessed with descendants. Had Peter been si- 
lent before his accusers, he might have saved him- 
self tears of remorse. How many have closed their 
days in shame or sorrow because they lived long 
enough to say one word too many. How many who, 
had they the power, would warn us in the spirit of 
Sir Henry Wotten's lines, supposed to have been writ- 
ten by John Hoskins to his little child, Benjamin, 
from the Tower where he was imprisoned for having 
more volubility than the law allowed him ; 

u Sweet Benjamin since thou art young, 
And hast not yet the use of tongue, 
Make it thy slave while thou art free, 
Imprison it, lest it do thee." 

" Be swift to hear, slow to speak," is the apostol- 
ical precept ; and even the relative number of the or- 
gans of hearing and of speaking teach as much. It 



SILENCE, 



13 



was a saying of Zeno, that men have one tongue and 
two ears, and should therefore hear much and speak 
little. If a person be moved by no other considera- 
tion than that of learning to talk well, he should not 
open himself too freely in new companies and among 
strangers. He should consider that every circle has 
its own tone, laws of decorum, and modes of thinking 
and talking, which he must learn by reserved obser- 
vation, before he can safely take the lead of its con- 
versations. It would do some people good if they could 
take a course of philosophy under the instructions 
of old Pythagoras. He enjoined silence on his dis- 
ciples for the first two years, forbidding them during 
that period either to ask questions or make remarks. 
After they had thus learned to hold their tongues, 
he gradually permitted them to make inquiries, and 
finally to communicate their own opinions. 

Laudable as a well-timed silence is, so much praise 
has been lavished upon it, as to lead some to say 
nothing, or next to nothing, in society. Taciturnity 
is not always an indication of wisdom ; it may be 
the necessity of ignorance. Some who have been 
taught that wise men are not great talkers, seek a 
reputation for wisdom at the expense of affability. 
Cyrus once said to a person who was always speech- 
less in his presence : " If thou art a wise man thou 
doest foolishly : if thou art a fool thou doest wisely.*" 
Men of solitary and studious habits too commonly 
take for granted that they are out of their element 
when they are in society, and carry themselves ac- 
cordingly. Though no other class of men have a 
greater fund of thought, few are so much at a loss 
for a theme, or hold themselves less in readiness for 



14 



SILENCEc 



talking. The modesty of some always draws a veil 
over their splendid intellects. The pride of others 
whispers to them that this is not the opportunity to 
set their talents in an advantageous light. Some 
have contracted habits of silent thinking which they 
cannot lay aside in seasons of recreation, else they 
have come from their studies with their thoughts so 
confused, their powers so fretted, and their nerves 
so sensitive, that they fear if they attempt to open 
their lips they shall torture themselves and all about 
them. Many a one has taken leave of circles in 
which there were men of letters, saying to himself, 
" I have lost my time in the company of the learned." 
When this distracted and absent manner is un- 
feigned — and we must always believe that it is, till 
we know it to be otherwise — it must be pitied and 
pardoned. While Thomas Aquinas was absorbed in 
controversies he was invited to dine with the king of 
France. He went, but was lost to those around him ; 
at length suddenly dropping his knife and fork, with 
his eyes fixed, he struck his hand upon the table cry- 
ing out, " I have confuted the Manicheans." For 
one who is not a student to maintain a long silence, 
or to break it only by irrelevant remarks, is to gain 
the reputation of a dullard. Certain literary char- 
acters must pardon us if we say, that in our humble 
judgment the greatest minds are free from this in- 
firmity. The absent-minded are stumbling blocks 
in society, and ought not to appear there without 
making an apology for not being absent also per- 
sonally. 

In some, taciturnity is the dictate of a self-import- 
ant spirit. They foolishly fancy that to speak to 



SILENCE. 



15 



another is to admit him to an equal footing with 
themselves. Lacking the common sympathies of 
humanity, they cast a wondering and supercilious 
eye upon the generality of those who make bold to 
accost them. 

Again, we meet with those who are taciturn from 
bashfulness. This is beautiful in young persons; and 
those who labor to remove all traces of it from their 
manners, are only preparing them to be impudent in 
later years. But though modesty is comely in all, 
bashfulness in men and women, whether it be real or 
affected, is very troublesome to themselves and to 
their neighbors. One can hardly be at ease in the 
society of such people. Sympathizing with their 
silly looks and awkward gestures, he is apt to lose 
his self-possession, and appear as timid as they. 

The worst kind of silence is sullenness ; and it is a 
fault of many kinds of taciturnity that they are apt 
to be mistaken for it. People that have much knowl- 
edge of the world very seldom manifest their ill 
nature, obstinacy, or enmity in this way ; they are 
careful to cover their feelings beneath a more close 
and comely veil. The bare suspicion that there is 
a sulky person in a company, fills us with painful 
apprehensions. He appears to us as if he were la- 
boring under a load of hatred, which he is ready 
every moment to roll off upon us ; it is impossible 
for us in his presence to talk with freedom ; he 
chills and petrifies us : he is akin to the Gorgons 
of classic fable, who are said to have had the power 
of converting into stone every object on which they 
fixed their eyes. 

It must not be overlooked, however, that the most 



16 



SILENCE. 



affable and good humored persons have their silent 
moods, when it is equally tiresome to talk and to 
listen, A shrewd observer will readily detect this 
humor, and regulate his tongue accordingly. 

Silence is, now and then, useful by way of reproof, 
more particularly when it is assisted by a corre- 
sponding look. When people are talking against their 
acquaintance, uttering profanities or obscenities, or 
wantonly taunting us, or on any other sufficient oc- 
casion, we may resume silence in a manner that will 
reprehend the talker. In such a case we must not 
only hold our peace, but avoid even a smile of seem- 
ing approval. Some have so very gay and jocular 
a way of rebuking, that one thinks them half de- 
lighted with the act of wickedness that called it forth. 
"When people bring to our ears the slanders they have 
heard of others, or tell us of their own grievances on 
purpose to obtain our favoring judgment or to enlist 
us on their side, then silence is commonly the part 
of wisdom. A hubbub which is commenced by 
words, it is hardly in the power of words to hush* 
Slander-bearers take heart from those who deign to 
give ear to them. When a strife of tongues has once 
begun in a coterie or neighborhood, the example of 
one or two sealed mouths does marvels in settling 
commotions and restoring peace. Of such persons 
we may say what Ignatius declared concerning the 
bishop of the church of Philadelphia : " His modera- 
tion I admire ; by his silence he is able to do more 
than others by all their vain talk. 5 ' 

Do not go off in raptures at the first sight of a 
work of nature or art, unless you mean to show your 
enthusiasm rather than your taste. You had better 



SILENCE, 



17 



keep silence till you have formed some opinion. 
While Sir Joshua Reynolds was at Rome, studying 
the works of Raphael in the Vatican, he observed 
that most strangers who came to see them, began to 
praise them the moment their eyes fell upon them, 
whereas he was rather disappointed with them at 
first, and did not begin to appreciate them till he had 
made them objects of protracted study. Minds of 
sensitive and poetic mould are at first sight awed into 
silence when they contemplate natural scenery of 
great beauty, grandeur, or sublimity ; while persons 
of less taste are talkative, and are apt to give the ob- 
jects before them anything but their right names. 

Do not talk in church either before or after ser- 
vice. Silence is a mark of reverence which is due 
to the place and the occasion. It is a good rule 
among the Scotch to be silent at the breakings up of 
congregations. Romaine used to reprove church 
gossips by knocking their heads together. Even the 
ancient heathens were wont to hold their peace when 
they supposed themselves in the presence of their 
gods. Neither talk at a concert or where people are 
listening to music. "Pour not out words," says the 
son of Sirach, " where there is music, and show not 
forth wisdom out of time." 

Silence is also the proper language of grief. When 
we are overwhelmed with any calamity our words are 
few. The Psalmist David once said, "I am so 
troubled that I cannot speak." For this reason, 
when we pay a visit of condolence we should not 
talk a great deal. The expression of our compassion 
and fellow-feeling we shall find scarcely less accept- 
able to the bereaved, than urging motives of conso- 



18 



SILENCE. 



lation. The friends of the afflicted patriarch of Uz 
behaved with singular propriety when they came to 
comfort him — "They lifted up their voice and wept; 
and they rent every one his mantle ; and sprinkled 
dust upon their heads towards heaven. So they sat 
down with him upon the ground seven days and 
seven nights, and none spake a word unto him, for 
they saw that his grief was very great." After mak- 
ing every allowance for the customs of Eastern pas- 
toral life, it may be questioned whether the talk- 
ativeness, which is somewhat customary among us 
on such occasions, is any improvement on the silence 
of these ancient orientals. 

The fluent talker is oftener met with in society 
than the accomplished listener ; for this reason, per- 
haps, that the latter must forego his own gratifica- 
tion for that of others. He is usually a greater fa- 
vorite, and dispenses more pleasure to those around 
him than the talker. And it is a mistake to suppose 
that a good listener bears no part in conversation. 
He is, in truth, the only one that can shine without 
envy, and speak without interruption, impertinence, 
and tediousness. By an animated attention and an 
intelligent look, he can be eloquent even beyond the 
power of words. By a smile of assent he can show 
his approbation, his interest, his delight. By a ques- 
tion, he may indicate his curiosity or his humility. 
By starting a question for others to discuss, his de- 
ference and complaisance — by listening to tiresome 
prosing, his patience — by offering a doubt, or con- 
firming an assertion, his appreciation — by calling out 
and encouraging the timid, his kindness. And yet 
his silence is devoid both of servility and stateliness ; 



SILENCE. 



19 



he pleases without flattery, and though he says few 
things himself, his easy yet spirited attention incites 
others to outdo themselves. Heraclitus being once 
asked why he kept silence, replied, " That you may 
talk" — and this is the compliment that every good 
listener makes to those who are discoursing. Let 
any one bring to mind those whose society has 
afforded him particular pleasure, and if we are not 
mistaken, he will find them to have been those who 
seldom opened their mouths for any other purpose 
than that they might hear him more distinctly. Peo- 
ple often complain of the trite and vapid talk that 
prevailed in companies from which they have just 
come, but we may be certain that engaging discourse 
is rarely wanting where there are good listeners. 

More than a few pay so little attention to what is 
said, that they do not know how to make a suitable 
reply, or ask an apposite question. If they advance 
anything, it is alien to the matter in hand, and they 
say yes or no in the one place of all others the most 
improper. Failing to listen to one half of our re- 
marks, they misunderstand the other half. They ask 
us to repeat, as they were thinking of something else 
just then. Rousing occasionally from their dreams, 
they cry out, " What was that you were saying, sir," 
" I did not understand that, sir." Some, especially 
in argumentation, will hold their peace till others 
have taken their turn indeed, but will not listen to a 
word they say. They are all the while employed in 
framing a reply, or inwardly felicitating themselves 
on a triumphant confutation as soon as occasion 
offers. Solely attentive to the premises, they are 
preparing to deny the conclusion, leaving the chain 



20 



SILENCE. 



of argument that conducts to it quite out of the ques- 
tion. "Answer not," says the son of Sirach, "be- 
fore thou hast heard the cause." And Solomon says, 
"He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it 
is a folly and a shame unto him." 

Interruption is the habit of the inattentive and the 
rude ; but only the accident of the alert and the po- 
lite. Some persons have a way of making long 
pauses, so that, at the moment when you think they 
have done and begin to reply, they start off anew, 
saying, " Let me finish what I have to say." Such 
interruptions must happen to the best talkers. In 
friendly dialogue it is occasionally allowable to 
break in to finish a sentence or to improve an epithet 
— to clear up a remark which threatens to prejudice 
some absent person ; and to check the talker when 
he is going to flatter us or say something to his own 
disadvantage. 

Nothing is more provoking to a talker than to see 
a person spring up and leave the circle when he is 
saying something which he wishes to be appreciated. 
"I have known," says Sir Richard Steele, "a chal- 
lenge sent to a person for going out of the room 
abruptly, and leaving a man of honor in the midst 
of a dissertation." 

When you come into company while a topic is dis- 
cussing, do not request a recapitulation, but speak to 
what follows. Yet it is sometimes the duty of the con- 
veners, unasked, to explain the subject to a newcomer. 
When a long story is being told, do not ask the nar- 
rator to stop and repeat for your benefit. It is apt to 
make them look foolish and awkward, especially if 
you are behind the time appointed for taking the 



SILENCE. 



21 



chair. Conversers should sometimes behave as the 
Marquis of Abercorn did, who determined to teach 
his visitors punctuality by sitting down at dinner at 
the hour named in the card, which was worded " at 
5 o'clock precisely." When the time arrived only 
one gentleman had come. However, they sat down 
to dinner and disposed of the first course. About 
six, visitors began to drop in. His lordship was at 
dinner, and made no apologies as they sat down to 
what remained. Others of the party arrived about 
seven, and, instead of dinner, were complimented 
with coffee. 

There are occasions when it is not prudent to lis- 
ten to a conversation, as generally when we are not 
addressed and the subject does not concern us, and 
particularly when persons are wrangling. In their 
calmer after-thoughts they may be mortified to recol- 
lect that we heard what they said ; and besides, we 
may be tempted to take sides, and so involve our- 
selves in the contention. 

There is one kind of silence that is almost too con- 
temptible to deserve mention. We mean that silence 
which some ill-bred men are a long time breaking to 
those who ask of them a favor, or request their atten- 
tion to some business which needs to be immediately 
despatched, and which requires but a moment, and 
not the slightest forethought, to transact. They like 
to keep people in suspense, and would seem to find 
self-satisfaction in the thought that they are like 
those princes whose palaces are thronged with sub- 
jects who are detained for weeks awaiting the an- 
swer to their petitions ; or like the great English 
equity lawyer, Lord Eldon, for whose learned de- 



22 



SILENCE* 



cisions, as tardy as they were profound, the client 
waited long in consuming anxiety, and starved while 
the chancellor mused. 

It is no very courteous practice for people to main- 
tain strict silence when they are unknown to each 
other, as when persons are brought together at a 
house before the master or mistress has appeared. I 
had rather have my ear-drums beaten all day long 
than to endure such a dumb-show for five minutes. 
This sort of silence is a most refined torture. It is 
wrong to suppose we cannot speak to people till we 
have learned their names. 

We must not be loquacious in the hearing of those 
sly listeners who catch our words from our lips, and 
lay them up in their memories with the intent to re- 
port them to our disadvantage. They practise great 
reserve in their intercourse with strangers, but con- 
trive to call them out and encourage them to lay 
open all their hearts to them. They will listen to 
you, and, if needs be, applaud you ; but it is only 
when you speak your mind, and give them a clew to 
the weak points in your character. Some put on a 
seeming ignorance, that they may ascertain how 
much others know ; or, under an air of indifference, 
hide an eager desire for secret and personal informa- 
tion. Others, more crafty still, compass the same 
object by great volubility, in order to embolden their 
victims to declare themselves without reserve. With- 
out being suspicious, we should be on our guard 
against this kind of double-dealers. 

To little purpose shall we attempt to master this 
difficult art unless we learn to rule our own spirit. 
The mind is the real source of most of the faults that 



SILENCE. 



23 



are committed in conversation. Let this be in sub- 
jection to Divine Grace in all who would cultivate 
the proprieties of speech. A wise ancient remarks 
that it is the gods alone who inspire the wisdom of 
silence ; and a wiser than he has said that " the prep- 
aration of the heart and the answer of the tongue are 
from the Lord." 

We have little hope of effecting any durable re- 
form in the conversation of those whose hearts are not 
undergoing the transformations of sanctifying grace. 
Moral precepts are all but lost upon those Whose un- 
renewed nature is continually repelling them. In 
vain do we cleanse and whitewash the door of the 
sepulchre so long as the inner walls are reeking with 
corruption. Says the apostle James, " Every kind 
of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and of things 
in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of man- 
kind, but the tongue can no man tame ; it is an un- 
ruly evil." Yet the same apostle would have Chris- 
tians bridle the tongue. After Divine Power has 
subdued it, we may do something towards managing 
it. To our hands He resigns, not the lasso, but the 
bridle. 

Whoever knows how to listen to a rude, tedious, 1 or 
conceited talker, with attention and civility, neither 
complaining of impertinences nor hinting to others 
that he knows what good breeding is, if they do not ; 

1 Be not a button holder. One can easily ascertain when a person 
he meets wishes to talk. If he is walking with a hurried step, do not 
stop him ; or if this is necessary, detain him but a moment ; even then, 
it is better to turn about and hurry along with him till you have spo- 
ken your word. When a professional man is called from his office, or 
a student from his books, deliver your message with all possible de- 
spatch Have not the vanity to think that great novelty of thought, 



24 



SILENCE. 



but, overlooking the untold irregularities of the 
tongue, and counting them as nothing — such a one, 
however ignorant and ungifted and ungainly he may 
be, shows that he is, at least, not wanting in meek- 
ness, a virtue which has no fellow in the whole circle 
of exterior graces — a virtue which is one of the most 
amiable peculiarities of the Christian, and a chief 
qualification for the society of fallible beings. 

even though you can deliver it with great suaviloquence, will be gladly- 
received by those whose minds are preoccupied Long talks are never 
to be allowed, except among fast friends who hav^e an abundance of 
leisure. In the Hindoo paradise two deities are represented as sitting 
eng^-ed in eternal conversation. This may do very well for a heathen 
pasrf dise, but it will never answer on this whirling planet. 



CHAPTER H. 



CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 

Numbers that can entertain the occasional assem- 
blies of their friends and acquaintance, or the con- 
versation clubs to which they belong, with the vari- 
ety, grace, and brilliance of their discourse, do not 
know how to adapt their tone and style to the mem- 
bers of the family circle. They are not skilled in 
those cadences of kindness that soothe the dull ear 
of age and the sensitive ear of weariness, affliction, 
and pain. They have never learned to take part in 
the prattlements of children, and to attemper the 
light of instruction to their budding faculties. They 
cannot greet the poor and the dependent with those 
words of good will and encouragement which are 
more melodious than the chink of gold, and are laden 
with sympathies that are more precious than rubies. 

Home, to those who are so happy as to have one, 
must ever be the principal scene of entertainment 
and vexation, moral conflict and victory, joy and sor- 
row. Over this spot must ever hover the dearest and 
holiest memories. Here the world search after the 
secret springs of action, and find a solution of the 
mysteries of our character and career, and thence 
the angelic recorder brings the chief items for the 

B 



26 



CONVEKSATION IN PKIVATE 



doomsday-book. To home are our destinies chained, 
from the morning dawn of life till its departing hour. 
That, then, is a most sterling accomplishment, which 
serves to gladden, instruct, and warn those who are 
wont to gather there. It matters little whether the 
fickle multitude applaud or hiss, bless or curse those 
who are on good terms with their relatives and do- 
mestics, and, by kind words and gentle acts, endear 
themselves to these. Unsuccessful though they be 
in the strife and tumult of the world, they still have 
it in their power to perform 

"Deeds 

Above heroic, though in secret done." 

Milton. 

There is, perhaps, no fault more characteristic of 
modern conversation than an irreverence for age. 
The command, " Thou shalt rise up before the hoary 
head, and honor the face of the old man," would 
seem to be thought obligatory only on the people of 
a former dispensation. But neither time nor place 
can alter or abrogate this law. Were the aged no 
longer sensible of neglect and disrespect, then their 
might be some color of reason for the abolition of 
this statute ; but the sensibilities of the aged pilgrim 
of this generation are the same with those of the 
gray-headed man of the olden time. How much so- 
ever the people of the world may be wanting in these 
assiduities to the aged, it ill becomes the Christian 
to deny them, in any instance, that reverence and 
kindness which both religion and nature require. 
Their petulance or childishness can never justify our 
impatience, disrespect, or inattention. Great defer- 
ence should be felt for their opinion. When infor- 



AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



27 



mation is desired as to a matter that is familiar to 
them, they should first be consulted, always taking 
care, however, not to ask them any question which is 
likely to expose their ignorance, or the decay of their 
memory or other faculties. "When a discussion is 
going on, our seniors must be attentively heard be- 
fore we presume to put forth our own reasons. 
Young Elihu, the spirited opponent of Job, and his 
three friends, did not suffer his zeal for truth to en- 
croach upon the honor that was due to years. He 
held his peace till all had spoken, because they were 
older than he, and did not begin to answer them till 
he perceived they had all concluded their remarks. 

Old people like to be reminded of their age as 
associated with wisdom, experience, and virtue, but 
not as implying infirmity and dotage. Some, it is 
true, take a kind of pleasure in describing their dis- 
eases and complaining of their pains. But the 
greater number, though they like to have us sym- 
pathize with their infirmities, do not wish us to dwell 
at great length on the subject. Some one who called 
on Dr. Johnson, in his old age, says that he soon dis- 
patched the inquiries that were made about his ill- 
ness, by a short and distinct narrative ; and then 
assuming a gay air, repeated from Swift : 

" Nor think of our approaching ills, 
And talk of spectacles and pills." 

In conversing with sick persons, the attendant 
should suit his topics to their mood. When they are 
melancholic he should not, in general, talk in a lively 
or humorous strain. " As he that taketh away a gar- 
ment in cold weather, and as vinegar upon nitre ; so 



28 CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE 



is he that singeth songs to a heavy heart." When 
they show a desire to forget their malady, he should 
transport their minds as far as possible from the sick 
bed, and especially keep clear of all gloomy and 
funereal considerations. He should praise their pa- 
tience when they exercise it, return the mildest an- 
swers to their chidings, and listen to their groans as 
if they were the most plaintive melodies. In answer 
to their murmurs, he must not inform them that he 
was himself once afflicted with the same disease, ex- 
cept when it may serve to inspire them with the hope 
of a speedy recovery. He should be so attentive to 
their wants, and alive to their condition, as to forget 
his own indispositions which have been occasioned 
by watching and confinement. He should express 
joy and gratitude for any signs of recovery, and not 
call their attention to any change he may discover 
in their features, unless it is for the better, nor re- 
mark that it will be a long time before they are quite 
recovered. 

When the sick person and the attendant are both 
pious, the work of consolation will, in most cases, be 
easy. A knowledge of the Scripture promises, skill 
in applying them, strong faith and habitual prayer- 
fulness, are the principal aids to the performance of 
this duty. We must not omit to mention the efficacy 
of sacred music, in cases where the afflicted saint has 
any perception of harmony. The uses of music in 
the sick room have hitherto received much less atten- 
tion than they deserve. The Scotch gipsies were 
wont to deetn their songs of sovereign efficacy in dis- 
eases, and no doubt they were in some cases. 

When the sick one is an unbeliever, the attendant 



AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



29 



must, it is scarcely worth while to say, manage ac- 
cording to his temper, abilities, and principles. A 
nurse or other person, who is in constant waiting, can 
better administer to .the spiritual wants of the sick, 
than a physician, whose calls must be brief, and 
perhaps at distant intervals, though the latter is by 
no means to be excused from a faithful performance 
of this duty. When the physician or the nurse has 
won the affection and confidence of patients, by 
many obliging attentions, he has prepared the way 
for the most successful appeals to their heart and con- 
science. 1 They will not be slow to believe that a 
person who shows such a benevolent care for their 
bodies, is equally solicitous for the welfare of their 
souls. The proper discharge of this duty demands 
wisdom as well as piety. Still, we must not be so 
lithe and circuitous in our address as to diminish the 
momentum of the truth. When the person is uncon- 
cerned, we must urge alarming considerations, and 
we should aim to startle him to a degree that will 
make him lose all thoughts of our manner, in an 
overwhelming anxiety about his relations to the Re- 
deemer, and his preparation for eternity. Perhaps 
the patient confesses his ignorance of the gospel, and 
asks us to instruct him, but does not wish us to go 
beyond instruction. Nevertheless, we should go on 
to convince him that his very ignorance aggravates 
his guilt before God, asking him in the spirit of our 
Lord's question to Nicodemus, " Art thou a master 
of Israel and knowest not these things ?" Another 
passively admits what we say, but does not feel its 

1 See letters of Dr. Burder to a Young Physician, annexed to 
" Memoirs of Dr. Hope." 



30 CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE 



force; then we must earnestly enlarge upon it, and 
set it home to the conscience. It will not be enough 
to rouse any sort of feeling ; as to dissolve him in 
tears, to fill him with alarms,- or provoke his oppo- 
sition. We should not give over till we find him a 
true disciple of Christ. Some will resolutely with- 
stand all our attempts to engage their thoughts on the 
side of their salvation. They either take ground 
against the Gospel itself, or attempt to keep us at a 
distance, by taunts and reproaches. Yet, though we 
should declare to them the whole counsel of God, 
we should receive their angry retorts with compas- 
sion and meekness. Such a behavior on our part 
will, in many cases, prove the most powerful rebuke 
to their consciences, show them their own depravity, 
and direct them to the Saviour. 

As to those who would keep us back from serious 
addresses to the sick, by the plea that they would 
hasten the dissolution or delay the recovery of the 
patient, they are for the most part persons who are 
more tender of the bodies than of the souls of men. 
"What if religious conversation should shorten his 
days ; were it not better that this should result, than 
that his life being prolonged by an utter neglect of 
his soul, both his soul and body should be eventually 
swallowed up in hell ? Whether such exhortations 
will be hurtful to the health of a patient, must often 
depend on the spirit and manner in which they are 
made. Where these are what they should be, few, 
very few will suffer physical detriment by conver- 
sation or prayer. So far from it, could facts bear 
testimony, they would, we doubt not, show that 
multitudes have owed their recovery to the faith- 



AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



31 



fulness of their spiritual guides during their sick- 
ness. 

Impressions made on the near prospect of death 
are not unfrequently effaced by returning health. 
The pious attendant should remind the convalescent 
of the vows he made in sickness, and entreat him to 
gird himself with the pious resolution of the psalmist : 
" I will go into thy house with burnt offerings. I will 
pay there my vows, which my lips uttered when I 
was in trouble." 

Tact and address are of much service in comfort- 
ing the mourner and the heart-stricken. Although 
a tender and sympathizing spirit is the first and the 
indispensable qualification, much depends on the use 
of expedients to lead away the thoughts of the 
afflicted from their troubles. In fact, so numerous 
and multiform are the diseases of the mind brought 
on by sins, follies, trials and reverses, it is surprising 
that medical men have not set themselves more ear- 
nestly to find out preventives and remedies for them, 
instead of suffering them to rage till their victims 
are prepared to end their days in lunatic hospitals. 
They must know that the keenest and most dreadful 
pains are those of the mind ; and many of them, we 
trust, are feeling a growing interest in this depart- 
ment of mental science. We doubt not that the 
general prevalence of the principles of the gospel 
will scatter most of the noxious vapors that have now 
settled down upon the mental world, and are destroy- 
ing some of the noblest sons of genius. Daily ex- 
perience attests that divine grace is potent to drive 
from the soul remorse, doubt, fear, sorrow, and a long 
train of other disturbing feelings. 



32 



CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE 



One of the highest excellences of human speech 
is its power to comfort, and that not merely the 
mourner, but the disappointed, the unfortunate, the 
perplexed, the wronged, and the oppressed. "Within 
the circle of our own family we may find repeated 
occasion for this noble office of the tongue. How 
does a word of encouragement from the lips of 
friendship and love raise our sinking spirits, and 
nerve them for high undertakings; how does the 
word of hope support us in the exhausting and 
doubtful struggles of life ; how do the promises of a 
faithful God, repeated to us at some difficult stage 
of our pilgrimage, carry us smoothly and quickly 
over it. When a concurrence of petty mishaps has 
brought the family circle into an irritable mood — or 
when it seems as if a ban of silence were laid upon 
the lips of all, or every heart is sad, it knows not 
why — how angelic is the voice that can revoke the 
edict, call up the memories of happier hours, and draw 
covenanted hearts into free and cheerful conference. 
It is commonly thought a great inconsistency that 
some of those who are accomplished in the art of 
pleasing a circle of acquaintance, show no skill in 
consoling the unhappy members of their own house- 
hold, being affable and complacent in public, but 
morose and disobliging in private. But this seeming 
incongruity is explained the moment we reflect that 
the temper of such persons is naturally ungovernable, 
and that though they are able to manage it during 
an hour of general joyousness, they cannot hold it 
in check through all the days and years of private 
vexation and care. Passions that were swayed by 
admiration, flattery and hilarity, whilst around them, 



A2s T D DOMESTIC LIFE. 



33 



assert their native freedom as soon as they have 
passed the borders of the empire of those alien and 
controlling influences, In the world they found 
variety and novelty ; in the domestic circle they 
find what is trite and monotonous. People of 
fashion appear to best advantage when they are re- 
moved from themselves and familiar scenes, and are 
lost in the parade and festivity of fashion's carni- 
vals ; whereas the people of God grow more and more 
lovely in our eyes, as we follow them into each 
smaller circle, and approach their hearts— those pure 
and perennial springs of satisfaction and peace. 

The intercourse of private life calls into service a 
more active attention and a finer delicacy than the 
occasional concourses of general society. In the 
former, persons of an ungentle spirit are daily, if 
not hourly, disturbing the peace of a few ; in the 
latter, they can appear but seldom, and he who has 
once suffered from their misbehavior can shun them 
for the future. In the latter, people meet for the ex- 
press purpose of pleasing and being pleased ; in the 
former, the turbulent are to be quieted, the vexed to 
be soothed, heart-aches cured, antipathies reconciled, 
foibles indulged, and an ardent and life-long affec- 
tion to be fostered. He who makes levies on the pa- 
tience of a whole party may easily be tolerated, since 
the tribute of each will be small, and will be required 
a few hours only ; but when the same tax is laid on 
a single heart, it becomes most oppressive ; especi- 
ally when the exactions are made daily for years. 
Who can calculate the amount of pain which an un- 
kind spirit thus inflicts on those who are bound to it 
by the inviolable ties of kindred. 



84 



CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE 



" The hint malevolent, the look oblique, 
The obvious satire, or implied dislike ; 
The sneer equivocal, the harsh reply, 
And all the cruel language of the eye ; 
The artful inquiry whose venomed dart 
Scarce wounds the hearing while it stabs the heart. 
The guarded phrase whose meaning kills, yet told, 
The listener wonders how you thought it cold ; 
Small slights, neglect, unmixed perhaps with hate, 
Make up in number what they want in weight. 
These and a thousand griefs minute as these, 
Corrode our comfort and destroy our ease. 1 ' 

Mrs. H. More. 

He who can talk to the entertainment and im- 
provement of children, has mastered one of the last 
difficulties in the art of conversation. He ought to 
possess a vivid recollection of what he once was, 
much knowledge of human nature, a wide range of 
illustration, a ready command of Saxon and other 
simple words, and especially an acquaintance with 
the idioms and provincialisms that are current among 
children in certain places. If all this, it may be said, 
is required in order to talk with children, few people 
are equal to the duty. But allowing this and a great 
deal besides, we ought to make the best use we can 
of our abilities, and supply by study, reflection, and 
especially by practice, the deficiencies of nature. 

In conversing with the young, living examples and 
ocular illustrations should often be brought for- 
ward. The Spartans showed their knowledge of hu- 
man nature by bringing a drunken slave into the 
public place, that their children might look upon him 
and be so disgusted with the unseemliness of intoxi- 
cation as forever afterwards to be on their guard 
against it. Horace holds his father in grateful re- 



AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



35 



membrance for having kept him from vice by show- 
ing him the bad consequences of it in known exam- 
ples. Cecil says he imprinted on the mind of his 
daughter the idea of faith at a very early age, by 
persuading her to throw some beads into the fire in 
reliance on his superior wisdom and tried goodness. 
We take for granted that the reader is familiar with 
the example which may be found in " Cecil's Re- 
mains." The incident is related in this great conver- 
sationist's most energetic style, and is replete with in- 
struction. It shows not only how we may teach the 
intellect just notions of religion, but also how we may 
discipline the heart in the exercise of the trust, sub- 
mission, and self-denial which are essential to the 
reception and practice of evangelical precepts. 

There is much reason to fear that the Bible is al- 
lowed to take too little part in the religious instruc- 
tion of children, and that pious parents do not often 
enough resort to it for matter of conversation with 
them. Catechisms and other religious books are 
made almost exclusively the starting points of reli- 
gious remark. These are excellent in their place, 
but should never be allowed to engage more atten- 
tion than the Bible. Nor should parental authority 
and example in religious matters be suffered to take 
the place of it. Few children will regard those re- 
ligious obligations as very binding which they are 
not wont to trace to anything higher than the will 
of their parents ; for they early learn that there is 
a higher authority before which all must bow equally 
low. Their own observation convinces them that the 
Bible — in Christian countries at least — holds the su- 
premacy in all spiritual concerns. They see their pa- 



86 CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE 



rents, their neighbors, the clergy, legislators, laws, oc- 
cupations, and even time itself, paying homage to the 
Word of God. If they respect one thing more high- 
ly than another, it must be that volume which is re- 
verenced by those whom they revere, and commands 
those whom they obey. Parents should, therefore, 
habitually read and quote the lively oracles in in- 
structing their children in religious knowledge, and 
read parts of them at the morning and evening de- 
votions of the family. "When the children are remiss, 
let the Bible correct them ; when they do well, let it 
encourage them ; when they are to be instructed, let 
it inform them ; when they complain, let it teach 
them submission; when they are in trouble, letjt 
comfort them ; when they would argue a religious 
question, let it reason with them. Let J ehovah speak 
in his own pure and commanding voice. Not that 
parents should lay aside their own authority in bring- 
ing them to submit to wholesome moral discipline ; 
for parental obedience is an important part of such 
discipline. Only let Holy Writ occupy the first place 
in the minds of children, and let them be taught to 
regard the divine law as paramount to human pre- 
cepts. So shall they ever have an ever-present mon- 
itor, and still be reminded of duty when the instruc- 
tions of their youth shall have faded from their me- 
mories as things long past. 

Let parents also teach their children the lessons of 
creation and Providence as they are interpreted by 
the Sacred Word. They, and they only, can pene- 
trate the mysteries that veil the world, who go forth 
to view the works of God, and study his dealings with 
their Bible open in their hands. Yet, with all these 



AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



37 



means of instruction, the parent may fail of his duty 
by neglecting to watch for opportunities to make and 
fix moral impressions on the tender heart. We saw 
this duty well illustrated not long ago, while we were 
passing some hours in the galleries of the Academy 
of the Fine Arts in Philadelphia. A member of the 
Society of Friends had brought in his little son to 
show him West's great painting of " Christ Healing 
the Sick. 5 ' The day was cloudy and did not throw a 
good light upon the picture, especially on the benev- 
olent countenance of our Saviour. They stood be- 
fore it some time, till the boy grew impatient, but 
the father kept his own eyes still fixed on the work 
of West, his immortal friend. Suddenly the sun 
came out, and the father exclaimed, u JVow look, my 
son!" as he pointed to the Great Healer's counte- 
nance, which was lit up with such a glory as helped 
to explain to us how it was that the votaries of pic- 
tured saints had seen them kindle up with miracu- 
lous smiles. There are times when the Holy Spirit 
does throw an unwonted radiance on the compassion- 
ate brow of the incarnate Redeemer, on human guil- 
tiness and woe, on His power to regenerate and 
renew; and wise is the father or the mother that 
prayerfully and laboriously waits for such openings 
in the clouds, and, at the happy moment, exclaims, 
u JVow look, my son !" Let him also improve times 
when a striking providence or a beautiful landscape 
flashes back truth, the light of God. Children may 
early acquire not only a love for the charms of na- 
ture, but alacrity in discerning the fingers of God 
busy upon all his works. Bryant, whose inspiration 
is the love of nature, tells us how he formed in 



88 



CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE 



the heart of a little girl of four years a like pas- 
sion : 

" For I have taught her with delighted eye 
To gaze upon the mountains, to behold 
With deep affection the blue ample sky, 

And clouds along its blue abysses rolled. 
To love the song of waters, and to hear 
The melody of winds with charmed ear." 

It may seem needless even to mention the detesta- 
ble practice of objurgation, or to give its own fitting 
Saxon title, scolding. Would it were so ; for we are 
loth to defile our page with the word. But we are 
compelled to say that not a few who plume them- 
selves on their conversational powers, fail most griev- 
ously in the spirit and mode of their commands to 
their children. They would be very sorry to be ac- 
counted scolds, and scolds of the more infuriated 
kind they are not : only they do all the mischief of 
these creatures without incurring their odium. They 
may want their clamor, but have their rudeness. 
They may not equal them in cursing, but they do in 
teazing. When ordering their children or servants 
to do anything, they add, "Be sure not to do as I 
tell you," or, in sending them on an errand, "Mind 
what I say, and don't be in haste ; be sure to stay all 
day." We should shun every way of addressing 
them that provokes resentment. The apostolic in- 
junction is, " Fathers, provoke not your children to 
wrath." When a child is angry, it should be treated 
with mildness, and soothed by appeals to conscience 
and to reason. Commands should be well considered, 
never repeated, and always enforced. Strictness 
should be tempered with calmness and tenderness. 



AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



39 



There can be no doubt that the difference between a 
scolding parent and one in whose lips is the law of 
kindness, has made the difference between a mur- 
derer and a philanthropist. 

As to servants, we must not only, as just now inti- 
mated, never stoop to rave at them, but never dispute 
with them. Whether we gain the point or not, we 
are sure to lose their respect. We must address them 
in a firm yet mild tone. We must request them to 
execute our commands as if we left it to their own 
pleasure whether they would do us a favor or not ; 
and when they have rendered us a service, we 
should give them some intimation of our gratitude, 
if not at least of our approbation. It is in general 
imprudent to make servants our confidants unless we 
have bound them to secresy by extraordinary liberal- 
ity. We should not converse with the servants of 
our host, nor reprove our own in the presence of 
guests. Let us also avoid the common practice of 
entertaining others with accounts of the falsehoods, 
thefts, and insults of our domestics. 

We cannot be too much on our guard against treat- 
ing the poor with neglect or disrespect on account of 
their poverty. And this caution is as applicable to 
our behavior towards our poor domestics as towards 
those poor people who do not live under our roof ; 
for there are those who spend half their time in visit- 
ing the cottages of the poor, and supplying their 
wants, and the other half in quarrelling with their 
own servants about their bad economy, and in con- 
triving ways of paying them the exact amount of 
wages they have earned, and nothing beyond. Such 
is the prevailing sycophancy to pelf, that the Chris- 



40 



CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE 



tian can never enough keep in mind that wealth can- 
not, of itself, confer personal worth, or make a man 
more entitled to our deference than his indigent ser- 
vant or neighbor. It is this mean and blind devo- 
tion the poor everywhere behold paid to mammon, 
that makes them so jealous of their rights, and ever 
keeps alive their suspicion. Equivocal remarks are 
interpreted unfavorably to themselves. Slights and 
oversights are regarded as personal affronts. Coun- 
sels are interpreted as upbraidings^ and pleasantry 
received as derision. They put forth an opinion 
tremblingly, and are wounded when it is disputed. 
They have too much cause to think that, were their 
own opinions put into the mouths of the rich, they 
would have been heard with applause and repeated 
as oracular. 

Though most men are ambitious of the accom- 
plishments which make them pleasing among their 
superiors or equals in wealth, they are very neglectful 
of the conduct that commends them to the poor. 
The etiquette of the cottage is less easily learned 
than that of the court. If it has not as much dig- 
nity, it has the more condescension ; if not as much 
flattery, the more encouragement ; if less ceremony, 
the more compassion. Let the disciple of the Naz- 
arene be equally observant of the marks of respect 
towards the poor and the rich. It is a great reproach 
to the politeness of the world that its offices are 
chiefly intended for superiors and equals as to for- 
tune ; like the peculiar languages of some heathen 
despotisms, where a special phraseology is kept in 
use, to be employed only by the inferior in his 



AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



41 



trembling colloquy with a superior. 3 Our Lord was 
the first to teach an unselfish and humble courtesy 
towards the poor and the unfortunate. Said he to 
his host, the chief Pharisee : " When thou makest a 
feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind." 
This precept forbids us to confine our social gener- 
osities to those only who can equally administer to 
our gratification, or for each mark of regard make a 
return in kind. Neither does the mere alms-receiver 
alone call for our benevolent attentions. The depend- 
ent, or the acquaintance, or the relative of the opu- 
lent, who is, it may be, domesticated in their families, 
are always hurt by a cold or reserved demeanor on 
the part of their benefactors. We should not remind 
them, or others in their presence, of their depend- 
ence, nor insinuate by our behavior that their de- 
pendence is any disparagement to them. It is not 
enough that we provide merely for the bodily wants 
of the needy, we must also show a solicitude for their 
mental tranquillity and ease ; and do all in our power 
to keep them from gliding into solitude and neglect. 
A number of richly-dressed people were, one cold 
day, gathered round a stove in a ferry-house. An 
old man of shabby exterior, who sat shivering behind 
those who had crowded before him, made a civil re- 
mark, with a view to break the silence that oppressed 
him, and draw some one into conversation. There 
was no other reply than a leer at his rags. He spoke 
again, when a young man who had hitherto held his 
peace, manifestly from deference to his superiors, 

3 See "Bagster's Bible of Every Land," (Mexican language), p. 384; 
and "Transactions of Amer. Ethnolog. Society" for 1845, p. 28. 



42 CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE LIFE. 



ventured a kind and respectful answer. Whereupon 
the old man smiled heartily, and seemed on a sud- 
den to forget alike his poverty and his age in the 
thought that he was not yet cut off from all the sym- 
pathies of his fellow-mortals. He manifests a doubt- 
ful benevolence, who sends his coin to the needy, 
while he is too proud to speak to them. He does 
little more than remind them of their poverty and 
their increased obligations to him. He who never 
fancies that his own wealth adds to his worth, and 
that poverty takes anything from the worth of his 
neighbor, possesses a greatness of soul which the 
votaries of mammon despise, because they are too 
deeply degraded to appreciate it. 



CHAPTER III. 



CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS "WITH ONE ANOTHER. 

The church is the oasis where the social virtues 
best thrive and mature. Her frequent occasions of 
bringing together the faithful, afford every facility 
for the commerce of brotherly affection, and the cir- 
culation of desirable thought. The people of the 
world are connected by selfish ties and transient 
interests. They generally assemble at wide intervals, 
and many of their friendships do not outlive a single 
season. With the people of God it is not so. They 
are bound together by ties that are benevolent, de- 
lightful, strong and ever growing stronger. They 
meet weekly, and many even daily. They assemble 
in circles rising in numbers from the private prayer- 
meeting to the great congregation. 4 Nor is this their 
intercourse limited to one congregation. Their more 
general interests collect them from all parts of states 
and nations. Thus are assembled the elements of 
a high-toned, liberal and improving conversation. 
And the effects of this intercourse are heightened by 
a divine agency, which is continually cooperating 
with the social principle. As the pebbles are assem- 

* See " Principles of Courtesy," Part EL, Chap. XIII. 



CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS 



bled on the beach, and mutually polished by the 
chafing waves, even so the souls of the saints are 
wrought into comely forms by being gathered into 
communion under the grace which moves upon them 
as it comes from the eternal world. And it is this 
grace alone that can prepare the social principle to 
polish and beautify our shattered nature. 

And in proportion to the piety of professors, will 
be the desire to meet for religious conversation. It 
is the testimony of the sacred historian, that after the 
miraculous effusion of the Holy Spirit on the day of 
Pentecost, the disciples daily broke bread from house 
to house, and ate their bread with gladness and sin- 
gleness of heart. The outpouring of supernatural 
gifts, attended with the appearance of a fountain of 
light, streaming forth upon each disciple a tongue 
of lambent flame, the general exultation that would 
naturally follow this dedication of the Christian tem- 
ple, together with an ardent brotherly love and a 
faith unbeclouded by doubts, frequently drew the 
first formed church together in separate groups at 
different houses in the city, and supplied themes for 
joyful and open-hearted conversation. Besides these 
advantages peculiar to their condition, there was 
another in the gift of speaking in foreign languages, 
by the help of which the natives of widely-sundered 
regions, once strangers to each other, because they 
had no common mediums of speech, could now blend 
their minds and interchange the truths of revelation. 

If there are any two qualities that make . Christian 
society distinct from any other, they are the gladness 
and simplicity of heart which were so conspicuous 
in the primitive assemblies of the disciples. There 



WITH ONE ANOTHER. 



45 



is a joyousness in the circles of believers which is not 
often met with elsewhere. What disciple that ever 
went to an assembly of his brethren with a sad spirit, 
did not take leave of that sadness very soon after he 
had joined the happy company. On the other hand, 
how often has the man of the world, who had cher- 
ished bright anticipations of the next party, been 
overtaken with a sort of stupefaction the moment he 
entered the circle, and felt disappointment and dis- 
gust when he left it. This same gladness prevails 
in all their meetings, whether they come together to 
interchange the common tokens of fraternal affection, 
or to contribute their substance or service to the gos- 
pel cause, or are driven together as sheep by wolves. 
Their disinterested benevolence puts to flight all 
cold calculations and dark anxieties, and leaves the 
mind in a state of unconcern and abandonment, 
which is congenial with cheerfulness. When they 
are maltreated and maligned for Christ's sake, they 
are exceeding glad by reason of the assurance which 
persecution gives them of a great celestial reward. 
The sight of one suffering wrong with cheerfulness 
and rejoicing, is enough to send a gleam of light 
across the darkest soul. For my part, I can hardly 
ever figure to myself the scene of the primitive con- 
fessors taking joyfully the spoiling of their goods, 
without feeling a fellow pleasure ; and though re- 
moved from them at the distance of eighteen cen- 
turies, I catch the sympathy of their transported 
hearts and gladsome countenances. 

We must not, however, let this feeling degenerate 
into levity, as it is apt to do when it is not supported 
by other evangelical virtues. There are not a few 



4:6 CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS 

professors who allow themselves to lay aside their 
spiritual weapons, and suffer all their sentinels to fall 
asleep whenever they are in Christian society. But 
let them not suppose they can safely be off their 
watch, because they are secure against the tempta- 
tions of secular companies. Let them not dream 
that the assemblies of their brethren are protected 
by bands of armed angels. Let them remember 
that it was in Eden, that the tempter laid his first 
and most fatal snares. It is only the vigilant spirit 
that is able to hit upon that 

" Mirth, which after no repenting draws 

and it is singular, that though only a thread of gos- 
samer separates cheerfulness from levity, the former 
is becoming to piety, and the latter is inconsistent 
with it. 

After all, we must not commit the mistake of those 
who are afraid of all pleasant talk which is not di- 
rectly improving or useful. Such people would find 
it hard to justify Job for saying, " Ye are the men 
and wisdom will die with you;" and Elijah for ridi- 
culing the vociferations of the prophets of Baal. 'Nor 
could they quote with a good grace such scripture 
proverbs as these: "all the days of the afflicted are 
evil; but he that is of a merry heart hath a con- 
tinual feast." "A merry heart doeth good like medi- 
cine ; but a broken spirit drieth the bones." 

Singleness of heart, the other quality which is pe- 
culiar to pious society, gives a kind of graceful neg- 
ligence to the deportment which, while it cannot be 
exactly described, may be found in that medium 
which is as far from the studied ease of the courtier, 



WITH ONE ANOTHER. 



47 



as it is from the rude familiarity of the clown. It is 
akin to the unreserve we often witness in the young. 
It is the frankness of a child who is not sensible that 
there is in his mind a single faulty idea, and inno- 
cently speaks his uppermost thoughts. It is a con- 
duct so transparent, that the heart may always be 
seen through it. It is imitated by those who, when 
they would appear pleased, torture their faces into a 
sardonic smile ; when they would appear honest, are 
garrulous and bold. When they would demonstrate 
their frankness, they betray some vice or other that 
they ought to have kept concealed ; or if they are 
more crafty, they make the openness of their de- 
meanor throw their real character into the shade. 
This virtue, like every other, has its pretenders, who 
closely copy it, and for which the counterfeit is very 
frequently mistaken. 

This cordiality sometimes engenders a freedom 
that greatly detracts from gravity and respect. This 
freedom, again, leads many to petulence and queru- 
lousness. Having admitted them to our confidence, 
they treat us as though we were no longer free agents, 
but solely the tools of their will. It is, to be sure, 
the bounden duty of brethren to "be subject one to 
another in love," but there ought to be some limits 
set to complaisant submission. 

Another of the abuses of sincerity, is the confiden- 
tial talk in which brethren are wont to indulge them- 
selves ; as the laying open of personal affairs, the 
dissecting of characters, and the handling of eccle- 
siastical difficulties. They think it not amiss to make 
remarks in an under-tone, which should not have 
been made at all. Brethren often talk with the ex- 



48 OOKVEKSATION OF CHRISTIANS 



pectation that nothing that is said in the circle, is to 
be reported out of it. How often is the expectation 
disappointed. In the most faithful band, there is 
almost always some one who seizes the first oppor- 
tunity to betray the confidence reposed in him, and 
who, while his lips are yet wet with the sacramental 
cup, goes forth to defame those who sat with him 
around the sacred board ; or if he has no evil inten- 
tion, yet by misquoting our remarks, or repeating 
them out of their connection, and to malignant ears, 
he does us as great a mischief as the most insidious 
foe— an injury not a little aggravated by the thought 
that it was inflicted by a brother. As we muse upon 
it, we are forced to take up the satirical lament of 
David: "It was not an enemy that reproached me; 
then could I have borne it ; neither was it he that 
hated me, that did magnify himself against me; 
then I would have hid myself from him ; but it was 
thou, a man, mine equal, my guide and mine ac- 
quaintance. We took counsel together ; and walked 
to the house of God in company." 

Yet let not such betrayals of confidence make you 
suspicious. Tou will always gain more by relying 
on the integrity of others than by habitually holding 
it in distrust. There is no man I would sooner trust 
than the rogue whom I had detected, and who knew 
that I had detected him. " M. De Witt," says Sir 
William Temple, " told me he had been very suspicious 
when he first became pensionary ; but had been so 
often deceived by it that he had cured himself of that 
quality." A friend of Sir Henry Wotton's, qualifying 
himself for the office of ambassador, requested of 
him some practical rule to guide him in diplomatic 



WITH ONE ANOTHER. 



49 



affairs. Sir Henry smiling, said, " To be in safety 
yourself, and serviceable to your country, you should 
always and upon all occasions, speak the truth ; for 
you shall never be believed ; and by this means you 
will secure yourself, if you shall ever be called to an 
account, and it will also put your adversaries to a 
loss (who will still hunt counter), in all their disqui- 
sitions and undertakings." Besides, your crafty and 
disguised characters almost always by some accident 
or other let drop their mask before their plot is exe- 
cuted. They make us close and taciturn. They pro- 
voke us to put their boasted sagacity and circumspec- 
tion to the test, and to set ourselves to hoodwink 
them by taking advantage of their craftiness. Open- 
hearted and open-handed honesty inspires its like in 
all. I think it is Baron Knigge, who very wisely ad- 
vises us to treat persons whom we have reason to 
suspect of artifice and intrigue with openness and 
candor, frankly to declare ourselves enemies to the 
double-hearted and the double-tongued, and warm 
admirers of honesty, thus making them sensible 
how much they would lose in our esteem, if ever we 
should surprise them in crooked paths. 

Again, this excess of sincerity occasionally leads 
brethren to make each other their father-confessors. 
In their open-minded converse, one tells of his hair- 
breadth escapes from temptation ; another confesses 
his ruling passion, another tells us how profligate, in- 
temperate, or vain he was in the days of his impeni- 
tency, and tells stories illustrative of his former char- 
acter. Some gratify their vanity by discoursing on 
their peculiar notions and whims ; their weaknesses 
and idiosyncracies ; their likes and dislikes ; they can- 

C 



50 CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS 

not dissemble, they say ; they must tell us all. Others 
lament their backslidings, wanderings and captivi- 
ties. Now, these persons would be very sorry that 
we should think their overwrought accounts exactly 
true. Were they to suspect that we would take them 
at their own valuation, they would no longer speak 
in terms of self-depreciation. And were we to hint 
to them, with all gentleness, the importance of cor- 
recting the very faults they so willingly accuse 
themselves of, we should provoke their resentment. 

Though we are commanded to confess our faults 
one to another, we ought to consider that the injunc- 
tion is limited by circumstances. If our sin does not 
wrong our neighbor or bring reproach on the church, 
we are not bound to confess it. When it harms 
another, or he lays it to our charge, then it is time 
enough to show our sincerity by acknowledging it, 
without apology or palliation. When we are at vari- 
ance with our brother, then it will be noble to cen- 
sure oufselves, to make concessions or to admit the 
justness of the charges that are preferred against 
us, to confess our faults to the aggrieved party, and 
to entreat his forgiveness. Also when we are asking 
advice of our pastor or of some other person, we may 
confess the faults and habits which we would have 
him direct us how to overcome. Again, when we are 
exhorting, reproving or counselling another, we may 
confess to him sins which we were tempted to com- 
mit, by taking the course from which we would dis- 
suade him. But he who is ever confessing to others 
sins which neither they nor the church have a right 
to hear or can be edified by hearing, seems to take 
a secret satisfaction in his own misdeeds, and to have 



WITH ONE ANOTHER. 



51 



so little sense of guilt and shame as to be vain of his 
very wickedness. 

We should not indulge the habit of discoursing to 
our brethren of our bereavements, losses and ills. 
They will indeed think it due to the confidence of 
brotherly affection that we unbosom to them our sor- 
rows and allow them to condole with us. And if 
we do it to obtain their counsels or their consolations, 
they will listen to us with pleasure, but it becomes 
quite another affair when they perceive that we take 
pleasure in descanting on our woes — that we com- 
plain not to obtain relief, but to amuse ourselves. 

Do not, in general, complain to your friends of the 
injustice and ingratitude of men. "When I murmur- 
ed against persecution," says Count de Bussy, "and 
so enhanced my misfortune by impatience, I would 
have died in prison, had I not a month before I came 
out, resolved to submit myself to whatever it should 
please God to do with me." This behavior touched 
the heart of Louis XIV., who at length recalled him 
from banishment. Especially do not complain of 
calumnies. Men claim the privilege of finding fault 
with you. It is nothing that you are perfection it- 
self ; they will then think you deserving of blame 
for having nothing blamable in you. If you con- 
vince the world that you are forsaken by your old 
friends, discontented with your condition, and want 
the strength of soul necessary to bear up against ad- 
versity, it will desert you almost to a man, and seek 
more powerful allies elsewhere. Yet, do not fly to 
the other extreme, and show a blustering pertinacity, 
but rather a bland resolution. "Resolved," says Pre- 
sident Edwards, " to follow the example of Mr. R., 



52 CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS 



who, though he meets with great difficulties, yet un- 
dertakes them with a smiling countenance as though 
they were little, and speaks of them as if they were 
very small." 

We should keep clear of an ambition to set off our 
own piety to the best advantage by boasting of our 
spiritual conquests or deeds of beneficence ; and, on 
the other hand, of a false humility, that while it is 
ever depreciating what we are and what we have 
done, is covertly seeking to impress others with an 
admiration for our lowliness. 

But of all the abuses which attend the needful in- 
tercourse of spiritual minds, perhaps the most com- 
mon is self-righteousness. The faculty of conversing 
on religious subjects, is liable, with some, to be con- 
founded with religion itself ; and, with others, to be 
substituted for it. A disposition to frequent discourse 
on spiritual topics is one mark of genuine piety ; but 
though such a disposition is indispensable to true 
piety, yet it may exist in an unregenerated heart. 
One of the deceptions which our hearts not unfre- 
quently practise upon us, is to magnify the slightest 
evidences of our personal interest in the Eedeemer 
into meritorious and self-sufficient virtues. 

One of the most profitable themes for discourse 
among brethren is that of religious experience— -a 
theme which is less frequently treated now than it 
was some years ago ; chiefly, perhaps, by reason of 
its perversion by fanatics and hypocrites. Another 
cause is found in the modern mistake of making all 
religion to consist merely in hearing sermons and re- 
sponding to the calls of benevolent institutions, to 
the neglect of the religion of the heart, the closet, 



WITH ONE ANOTHER. 



53 



and the family : consequently there is less hope and 
fear, joy and sorrow, fight and flight, conquest and 
defeat. There are, we rejoice to say, many, very 
many illustrious exceptions to this rule ; still it is a 
matter deserving serious inquiry whether the churches 
are not backsliding down this declivity. Some, no 
doubt, are backsliding in an opposite direction. 
They talk of their feelings as if they thought them to 
be the sum of religion. They never inquire about the 
advancement of the truth in their own family, or 
country, or in the distant regions of the earth. Ac- 
cording to our Lord's commission to the apostles, they 
were directed to begin at Jerusalem ; they were not 
to dwell there permanently. We ought first to in- 
quire whether our own graces are thriving, but we 
shall find they are not, unless we make provision for 
their exercise. Our experiences and graces are not 
the field ; "the field is the world," and in this field 
we should allow all the virtues to range. Nothing 
can be more instructive than a judicious disclosure 
of our temptations and conflicts. By these the young 
disciple is warned, and the aged confirmed in pa- 
tience and hope. If we have experienced sustaining 
grace in affliction, trust in darkness, direction in per- 
plexity, answers to prayer, illumination in studying 
and obeying the Scriptures, help in a pious under- 
taking, joy in self-denials, let us not withhold these 
things from our brethren. That our conversations on 
this subject may be in the highest degree useful, we 
should not introduce them too often, nor allow them 
to grow trite ; neither should we lightly mingle pious 
remarks among the hurried negotiations of business ; 
or, like Bunyan's Talkative and Foot's Mother Cole, 



54 



CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS 



dodge by turns from sacred to profane and profane 
to sacred. In relating our religious experiences, we 
should state facts in the most simple and unadorned 
language, and shun all affectation and cant. 

Some enthusiastic professors have their darling 
doctrines, to which they allude on all occasions, and 
on which they incessantly argue, ever repeating the 
same propositions, and ever quoting the same Scrip- 
tures to establish them. You run a great hazard by 
making the slightest allusion to their favorite theme ; 
they will, in all likelihood, hold your button an hour 
for your pains. When two or more persons are 
known to hold opposite opinions on a subject, and 
are used to dispute concerning it, we do well not to 
refer to the vexed question in their hearing. To 
start that topic were as wanton a cruelty as it would 
be to set two pugnacious dogs by the ears. These 
orthodox brethren, as it generally happens, give 
some attention to one truth to the neglect of other 
truths intimately related to it, on a right understand- 
ing of which the settlement of the question depends. 
A doctrine may be true as being of a piece with 
others, but not true as broken off from them by the 
force of controversy. Scripture truth is true only in 
its connection. It is another error of this class of 
men to suppose they understand a doctrine because 
they are familiar with it. They have long believed 
it, long talked about it, yet most likely they have 
never sat down for an hour patiently to examine its 
evidences, and to consider its intricacies and myste- 
ries. Could the doctrines speak, they might very 
properly ask many a babbler of this class the ques- 
tion our Lord asked one of his disciples, "Have I 



WITH ONE AN THEE. 



55 



been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not 
known me, Philip ?" 

" We do well," says Baron Knigge, " to distin- 
guish between religion and theology." 5 Observation 
teaches us that multitudes who are wholly wanting 
in vital piety, can talk fluently and confidently on 
the controverted points of our faith. A large class 
of these champions of dogmatism imagine they are 
giving the best possible proof of their piety when 
they are contesting some speculative notion, whereas 
the spirit in which they handle the -question, and 
their utter neglect of practical truths, declare that 
their piety is little else than rodomontade. It de- 
notes an unspiritual mind to like to dwell on 
mere speculative questions and unsearchable myster- 
ies. We may and ought to search for the points 
where mysteries begin, and to examine the proofs on 
which they claim our belief ; but this is different from 
an attempt to discover what Infinite Wisdom was 
pleased not to reveal to mortals. Were some of the 
mysteries of our religion cleared up to the satisfac- 
tion of some presumptuous inquirers, who shall say 
that the explanation of them would not be destruc- 
tive of all piety ? What virtue is there in admitting 
the truth of a mathematical demonstration ? Left as 
they are, they aid our growth, not only in faith, but 
in docility and humility. Every attempt to explain 
them only makes them the more obscure, while it 
renders unintelligible what was simple before. 

Let us not be misunderstood. We are not of the 
opinion of those spiritual non-resistants, who dream 
that they repose under the vine and fig-tree of true 

6 Uber den Umgang mit Menschen, p. 30 7. Hanover, 1844. 



56 CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS 

faith, while, in fact, they sleep under the upas of 
deadly heresy. We have been speaking of the bar- 
renness of mere speculation about the unsealed mys- 
teries of the gospel. We do by no means undervalue 
the importance of right views concerning all revealed 
truth, and of that sort of controversy which throws 
any light on .the pages of revelation. Holiness is the 
outgrowth of a knowledge of gospel truths, and hence 
spring freedom and faith. It is a holding the Head 
that brings life ; and whilst faith without works is 
dead, a rationalism that believes man and not God, 
is more than dead. It is death rampant and gory. 

Pious as many of these controversialists are, few 
of them are remarkably attentive to the decencies 
of speech. It is said of Sir James Mackintosh, that 
he had a way of advancing things so mildly and 
interrogatively, that he always procured the readiest 
reception for his opinions, and that he had two valu- 
able habits, which are rarely met with in great rea- 
soners — he never broke in upon his opponent, and 
always avoided strong and vehement assertions. But 
the persons in question are so captious and belliger- 
ent, that they are tolerated by none but their brethren, 
" the meek of the earth." Perhaps reputed great in 
one thing, they are content to be contemptible in all 
besides. They presume on the weight of their dog- 
matic assertions, and express themselves roundly on 
all questions, no matter how critical or profound. 
They should never be allowed to commence debating 
unless they will choose seconds as duelists do. They 
make shouts of victory stand them instead of argu- 
ments, and give their opponents no quarter, because 
they know that they are too strong for them. u Will 



WITH ONE ANOTHER. 



57 



leviathan speak soft words unto thee ?" Yain the 
hope ; he is in his element, or rather fancies he is, 
and must be allowed to imagine that he " makes 
the deep to boil like a pot, and makes a path to shine 
after him," though often the U shining" is only that 
of the upturned ooze his lashing and contortions 
have raised to discolor and scent the waves. 

Nevertheless, a perfect agreement of opinion among 
the members of the same circle is by no means de- 
sirable. It is a shrewd observation of La Bruyere, 
that the mutual pleasure of conversation is greatest 
among friends who agree in matters of taste and 
morals, and differ in opinion concerning the sciences; 
for so each one is either confirmed in his principles, 
or is disciplined and improved by disputation. Now 
Christian society is of this kind. The moral tastes 
and feelings of the brethren accord in the main, 
while they differ more or less respecting other sub- 
jects. And if they are not at all times benefited by 
their discussions, the general principle still holds 
good. It is impolitic to discourage discussion. It 
gives life and vigor to conversation. What can be 
more somnorific than the usage of some coteries, 
where each one withholds his opinion for fear of 
giving offence ; or, if any one ventures to put forth 
an assertion, it meets with an immediate assent — and 
a long silence succeeds. Were the doctrines of our 
religion like the principles of the exact sciences, a 
few words would serve to despatch them ; but inas- 
much as they are matters of moral probability, any 
person of common sense is able to say something by 
way of qualification, confirmation, or denial. It is a 
remark of Chevreau's, that there are two classes of 

C 



58 CONVEKSATION OF CHEISTIANS 

people whose conversation is equally disagreeable ; 
those who always dispute what you say, and those 
who agree with you so constantly and humbly, that 
you feel to cry out with the enraged orator to his 
antagonist, "Do contradict me to prove that we are 
two persons." He who ever replies with a ready 
affirmation, seems to say you are only repeating 
commonplaces and truisms. Hence the wisdom 
of seldom broaching current truths, cardinal ar- 
ticles of faith, undisputed facts, and the fixed prin- 
ciples of art and science. Paradoxes, far-fetched 
opinions, singular facts, unaccountable events, the 
hypotheses and hasty deductions of the immature 
arts and sciences; these are the starting points of 
the most spirited and improving discussions. The 
man that is careful to be always in the right, and to 
advance none but indisputable opinions, must needs 
impose silence on all around him ; people perceiving 
his anxiety to be thought infallible and irrefutable, 
do not like to oppose him. And since he must 
weigh all his thoughts before he offers them to our 
consideration, and choose the plainest and least am- 
biguous terms wherein to convey them, he must have 
long pauses to deliberate, frequent digressions to de- 
fine, or qualify, or explain. If he would betimes 
speak at a venture, and put forth a proposition that 
lay open to reply, and give an opportunity to correct 
his negligent remarks, the rest of the circle would be 
much beholden to him for helping them unseal their 
lips. But his very silence is as great a bar to con- 
versation as his strongly-guarded discourse. If 
others dare to open their minds at all, it is under the 
restraint which is laid upon them by his wise and 



WITH ONE ANOTHER. 



59 



critical ear. They cannot prevail upon him to com- 
mit himself till all have spoken, when he is prepared 
to expose their folly, and to establish his own wisdom. 
The statement of a proposition which is contrary to 
received opinion, or seemingly absurd, but really 
true, like the touch of Ithuriel's spear — gives sudden 
expansion to the minds of the company, and causes 
each one to spring up and appear in his real charac- 
ter. A man had better play the Jack Cade, chal- 
lenging every body to deny assertions which he 
knows to be absurd, than to be an automaton cour- 
tier, that makes a bow at every pull of the wire. 
The advocate of a visionary theory or an erroneous 
principle ought, before the subject is dismissed, to 
declare his real opinions concerning it, unless he has 
at the outset intimated, as in most cases he easily 
can, that he does not receive what, for the sake of 
striking out truth, he sets himself to defend. Let 
him beware, however, of too great a readiness to 
argue for victory rather than truth, a fault into which, 
the rash and the spirited frequently run. Johnson, 
who was a splendid and doughty talker, in his dying 
days felt and bewailed this arguing for victory as 
one of the sins to which he had been addicted. 

One of the most liberal and beneficial kinds of 
conversation is what some call building. It consists 
in adding something to the remark of another ; the 
interlocutors either fortifying each other's proposi- 
tions, or saying something which the observations of 
another suggested. Instead of pulling down, they 
literally edify one another. Fellow disciples can 
conveniently adopt this method. They have a com- 
mon fund of principles and sentiments which aids 



60 CONVEESATION OF CHKISTIANS 



this reciprocation of thought. It is in this way that 
truth is best discovered and established. If this 
method had been more generally adopted in bygone 
ages, how much richer a patrimony of truth would 
have descended to the present generation. Then 
each one would not have thought himself bound to 
remove the foundations of his brother's intellectual 
edifice before he could proceed to build his own, but 
would contribute his own material and skill to mend 
the works of his predecessor, and, as far as possible, 
carry them up towards completion. Thus, by the joint 
aid of different minds, each contributing what no 
other could, the tabernacle of truth might rise and 
stand splendid, graceful, and complete in every part. 
The practice here recommended, is not that of some 
wise persons who never fail to improve upon every ca- 
sual remark, ever getting the better of another, sure to 
have the last word, and letting slip no opportunity of 
showing that their intellect has still the mastery of ours. 

Where members of the same church are accus- 
tomed to meet and talk on matters of common in- 
terest, they are liable to institute comparisons be- 
tween their own church and some rival one, in the 
same city, village, or neighborhood. Its minister is 
contrasted with their own. Is a sister church thriv- 
ing ? They predict trouble from the accession of 
such numbers of spurious converts. Is it languish- 
ing ? They had been long expecting it, and know 
all the causes of its adversity. Only set over 
against the emanations of such envious and jealous 
minds the noble and liberal language of Paul: 
"Some indeed preach Christ even of envy and strife, 
and some also of good will. The one preach Christ 



WITH OjSTE ANOTHER, 



61 



of contention, not sincerely, supposing to add afflic- 
tion to my bonds ; but the other of love, knowing 
that I am set for the defence of the Gospel. What 
then ? Notwithstanding every way, whether in pre- 
tence or in truth, Christ is preached, and I therein 
do rejoice, yea and will rejoice." 6 

We should also beware of speaking contemptu- 
ously, or judging uncharitably of those who practice, 
or abstain from religious acts that are in themselves 
indifferent, or to which no scripture command can 
be brought to apply. " One man belie veth that he 
may eat all things ; another who is weak eateth herbs. 
Let not him that eateth despise him that eateth not ; 
and let not him that eateth not, judge him that 
eateth. Who art thou that judgest another man's 
servant. To his own Master he standeth or falleth." 

Such is the language of the inspired apostle, and 
yet it is notorious, that many a professor is the more 
censorious of his brethren, in proportion as they prac- 
tice what he himself believes, that the letter and spirit 
of the scriptures neither condemn nor approve ; but 
concerning which practice they believe, that the scrip- 
tures are positive. We are bound to endeavor to cor- 
rect errorists by all gentle and charitable methods, but 
we should not satisfy ourselves with invective, to the 
utter neglect of argument, especially when the acknow- 
ledged silence of scripture rebukes our bitter loquacity. 

It is well to keep clear of all denominational and 
sectarian topics when we are in the company of those 
who belong to different denominations. With a view 
to conciliate persons of another sect, some fall to prais- 
ing that sect or some of its ornaments, and in return, 

6 Phil. i. 15—18. 



62 



CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS 



expect to receive some golden opinions for their own 
denomination. It were more judicious to make an 
oblivion of such subjects altogether. There is, and 
it is a cause of devout gratitude that there is, so wide 
a range of common ground, that we are not compelled 
to turn aside into any very narrow enclosure. It is 
pleasant occasionally to mount to some serene sum- 
mit where the artificial divisions of our common 
Canaan are lost in the distance beneath, and whence 
we may survey all the tribes praying, with their eyes 
turned toward one tabernacle, bringing their atone- 
ing sacrifice to the same altar, and worshipping one 
Lord, even Christ. 

Let us beware of being numbered among those 
whose church is their whole world, beyond which 
their conversation rarely strays. They must always 
be talking of pastor or rector, deacons or church- 
wardens, or sexton, or fellow members. To allow 
the church a large share of our thoughts, is a mark 
of laudable zeal and devotedness ; but to limit our 
discourse to one congregation or denomination, savors 
of bigotry ; at least, those who are of a different 
persuasion will think so, and the more bigoted they 
are themselves, the more displeased will they be to 
discover any indications of the same vice in our- 
selves. We must not indulge a habit of felicitating 
our brethren of like faith on the truth, superiority, 
and triumphs of our denominational doctrines, when- 
ever we find ourselves in their company. For if 
haply, after a tirade against another denomination 
in the hearing of others, all of whom we supposed to 
be of our opinions, we should learn that a person 
belonging to that denomination was present and 



WITH ONE ANOTHER. 



68 



heard all we said, it would give us unspeakable mor- 
tification. And when we laud our clergyman exclu- 
sively in the hearing of those who go to another 
church, they will be likely to construe our words as 
a depreciation of their favorite, even should it not, 
as it often is, be regarded as oblique self-praise. 
When our own sect, denomination, clergy or creed is 
eulogized by a person of a different faith, we must 
beware of adding aught to his commendations, inas- 
much as he probably intended to bestow upon us all 
the praise we deserved, and it will be 'making him 
a shabby return to insinuate that, after all, he has 
overlooked half our merit. 

We occasionally meet with an aged Christian who 
delights to dwell on the history of the church or de- 
nomination of which he is a member. The honor 
which is due to age requires us to listen to what 
helps him to beguile away the heavy-footed hours. 
Perhaps he enlarges on the piety, talents and habits 
of the saints whom he once knew. He says, " that 
the former days were better than these and that 
" there were giants in those days, mighty men and 
men of renown. 55 Yersed in the scriptures he knows 
not when to cease discoursing on their blessed truths. 
From the feebleness of his memory, he tells you what 
you have heard him repeat many times before. To 
oppose him would, in most cases, be equally irrever- 
ent and unavailing ; and, however tiresome may be 
his prosing, if we will only listen to him patiently, 
we shall gain from him a great deal of information. 
His counsels are valuable, and if he is occasionally 
petulant towards his juniors, it is because he beholds 
them wantonly disregarding the lessons which it cost 



64 CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS 

him long and painful experience to learn. When we 
meet him in the social circle, we should frequently 
address our remarks to him ; and, when there is occa- 
sion for it, ask his opinion and advice. 

In talking with pious persons of defective educa- 
tion, we must not vulgarize our ideas in the attempt 
to simplify and suit them to their capacities. Some 
persons are nettled at our stooping to a level with 
them in thought and language, which they look upon 
as an under-estimate of their capacities and culture, 
but account it a compliment to be addressed as if 
they were more knowing than they are. Besides, it 
excites them to self-improvement. It was Richard 
Baxter's practice in every sermon to say something 
which was above the capacity of his hearers, and 
which they had not known before, in order, as he de- 
clared, to keep them humble under a conviction of 
their own ignorance. Nevertheless an ostentation of 
learning is very offensive to the ignorant, and they 
like to burlesque those who are guilty of it. 

Not all unlettered persons are ignorant ; in their 
own estimation very few of them are so. They 
plume themselves upon the thought, that, however 
ignorant of some things, they are competent to 
teach the most knowing person many useful lessons. 
Everybody has heard of the cobbler who pointed out 
an omission in the painting of Apelles, which he had 
himself overlooked. The knowledge of the illiterate 
is dear bought, thoroughly practical, and for the 
most part accurate as far as it goes. " The wisdom of 
the ignorant," says Goldsmith, "somewhat resembles 
the instinct of animals ; it is diffused in but a narrow 
sphere, but within that sphere it acts with vigor, uni- 



WITH ONE ANOTHEK. 



65 



formity, and success." In conversation, therefore, we 
must allow them to discourse in their own way. To 
put them upon talking logically, or to correct their 
verbal errors, were to confound and discourage them. 
When they express their thoughts inaccurately, we 
should not tell them what they mean, but answer 
them directly according to their meaning. "We must 
take care that we do not misunderstand them. They 
will sooner forgive our superiority to them in knowl- 
edge than for owning our inability to understand 
what seems very intelligible to their own minds ; for 
they are apt to suspect that, by such an avowal, we 
would insinuate that they do not understand them- 
selves, or, what is more commonly inferred, that we 
only betray our own obtuseness. 

The profoundest student of the Bible may gain no 
small aid, in his researches, from the pious discourse 
of unlearned believers. He will find the views of 
the common people on scriptural truth more simple 
and experimental than his own. Their piety is more 
primitive : by primitive we do not mean that their 
piety is as intelligent as was that of believers in 
apostolic times ; for it can hardly be expected that 
the greatest modern scholar could, by the studies of 
a long life, acquire as accurate a knowledge of the 
Christian religion as the bulk of primitive Christians 
possessed. We mean that their piety sheds a purer 
and more direct light. It is not blended with class- 
ical, philosophical, and mystical notions. Erroneous 
as may be their views on some points, their interpret- 
ations are, in the main, what all interpretations 
should be — practical. It is in the school of obe- 
dience that they have acquired their knowledge of 



66 CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS. 

the scriptures, and if they cannot illustrate' them by 
their learning, they can exemplify them in their 
lives. Whoever deigns to hold intercourse with the 
pious in humble life, can study our religion in its 
primeval and most secure repositories, and " extract 
honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock." 

We cannot dismiss this subject without alluding 
to a trespass which sociable brethren are prone to 
commit against one another,: we refer to trespass 
on time. When we are weary of solitude, and flee 
to the society of a brother, we do not enough re- 
flect that he may not have leisure for talk, and 
that if he stays to exchange thoughts with us, he 
is neglecting important engagements. We feel, per- 
haps, that as he is our brother, he ought to have suf- 
ficient patience to listen to us. The patience he may 
have, but may lack the hardihood of conscience; 
nay, he may have the desire, while duty is calling 
him to serious business. Or perhaps he has leisure 
for talking on some useful subject, but none to amuse 
those who wish him to help them kill time. Many 
think it no sin to spend hours in unprofitable par- 
lance, who would recoil from the thought of wasting 
the same period in silent supineness. " Let no man," 
says St. Bernard, "think it a light matter that he 
spends his precious time in idle words." 7 



1 Sermo de Triplici Custodia. 



CHAPTEE IV. 



SUNDAY CONVERSATION. 

The notes of a voluntary from the organ had just 
died away, and the coach was beginning to roll, 
when Miss Rose Restless, glancing through the 
pane, and seeing "a shawled shoulder, the side of 
a bonnet, and the end of a nose, whispered to her 
cousin, Flora Galaday, 

" Did you ever ? See ! Mrs. Gaudyage is dressed 
like a peacock, and yet she is turned of sixty !" 

" Tes, I see ; what depravity of taste ! The old 
coquette !" returns Flora. 

" Grandmother, who is very plain, you know, was 
walking with her the other day, past Babel Hotel, 
when Will Bottle, who is always drunk, staggered 
out, blurting, c They toil not, neither do they spin, 
yet Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like 
one of these I 5 " 

" Well, Rose, you see what you will come to if 
you proceed at this rate. They say she was very 
dressy when she was young." 

" Indeed, Flora ! and you could not have looked 
in a mirror lately. But to be serious now, did you 
mark Helen Everton's bonnet. It was silk, with a 
frilling of tulle at the edge, without feathers and 
artificials." 



68 



SUNDAY OONVEKSATION. 



" Not exactly, Kose. Helen is more obedient to 
the will of Paris, than to put on such a bonnet. She 
wore a bonnet of lisse crape, with tulle puffed, and 
feathers and roses." 

" You must be mistaken, Flora ; I saw neither feath- 
ers nor roses, and I inspected the thing particularly." 

" So did I inspect the thing very particularly. 
The brim inside was trimmed on the one hand with 
a tuft of roses ; on the other, it had a feather placed 
outside, turning over the edge, and coming inside 
near the cheek." 

" Oh my ! How could your eyes deceive you so, 
Flora ; — on which side were the feathers ?" 

" On the side towards where I sat. Besides, when 
she turned round to go out, I saw her full in the 
face, and there were roses inside. When she came 
near me in the aisle, I saw they were mixed with 
narrow white blonds." 

" That accounts for our differences. You sat on 
one side of her and I on the other. When she 
turned round my eyes were on something else — on 
a scene that attracted all eyes — the young married 
couple, Mr. and Mrs. Honeymoon. Mrs. Honey- 
moon had on a paletot of crimson velvet, trimmed 
entirely round with a silk gimp. The crimson with 
the green lining of her bonnet, made her pale face 
look insipid and sickly. Such a flourish as they did 
make ! You saw them, coz?" 

"No, I am too near-sighted. It takes you to see 
what is far off, and me to see what is near — but 
don't you think the fashions favor me ? I am em- 
honpoint, you know, so that full skirts are just the 
thing for me. Don't you think so, Kose ? " 



SUNDAY CONVERSATION. 



69 



" Yes, Flora, Paris takes pity on you this season ; 
and don't you think white gauze bonnet strings be- 
come me V 9 

The opening of the coach door before No. — Incog. 
Place, prevented any reply to this important ques- 
tion. Entering the parlor, they find their mothers, 
Mesdames Restless and Galaday, who have just 
returned from the morning service at St. Picture's. 
It is enough to know that they are opera-goers, and 
consider themselves very exemplary Christians as 
the times go. 

"Well, aunt, how did you like the prima donna, 
to-day? Did she sing as well as when we heard her 
at the opera last night?" asked Eose. 

"Better, if anything. If she can sing at the 
opera she can sing at church, of course. A prime 
cantatrice like her can sing anywhere." 

"Doubtless," replies Mrs. Eestless ; "and yet 
don't you think Signora Squallia has a certain 
trick of voice, as if she were aiming at artistic 
effect?" 

" A soprano of her powers should not choke 
herself down to the notes like ordinary choir-sing- 
ers. She is expected to show off her voice." 

" Did you observe, sister, the gradual growth and 
sostenuto of her tones, especially in the upper and 
middle registers ?" 

" Yes, she has few equals there ; but what did 
you think of the mezza voce shake in the hymn — I 
forget the words? It showed either a flaw in the 
voice or a slip in the execution." 

" It was a slip in the execution, no doubt. Her 
voice is perfection itself." 



70 



SUNDAY CONVEBSATION, 



" Don't you think, aunt," asks Flora, " that most 
celebrated sopranos render church music too oper- 
atically — too — you know what I mean ?" 

" Why no, Flora, not more operatically than your 
barytones, your tenores } and your contraltos." 

" We can never have too much virtuosita in our 
church singing, so the art be only concealed by a 
little abandon and occasional jloriture" adds Mrs. 
Galaday. 

Mrs. Restless was saying that she "particularly 
admired two or three of Signora Squallia's orna- 
mental variations from the literal text which she 
had observed in the last hymn," when Mr. Galaday 
came in. He had been to hear Dr. Action, to 
"whose church" he always goes when he spends a 
Sunday in towm Looking at Mrs. Restless with an 
eye of wonder, he sportively asks, 

"Then you have been to St. Picture's, have you ? 
How dare you go to church on purpose to hear a fine 
singer — an opera artiste, too; leaving out of the 
question the deadly heresy taught at St. Picture's ?" 

" For my part, I can say," replies Mrs. Eestless, 
" and I think I can speak for my sister also, that I 
have no scruples about going to hear an opera singer 
at church, and at an apostate church if you please. 
As to the heresy taught at St. Picture's, I do not 
approve that. Indeed, I never listen to what a 
preacher says ; I always make up my mind to 
sleep during that part of the service. If I went 
to hear the sermon that would alter the case, but I 

" To church repair, 
Not for the doctrine ; but the music there." 

" Some go to church to see architecture, others to 



SUNDAY CONVERSATION. 



71 



look at pictures, and others to hear eloquent speak- 
ing. I have as good a right to indulge my taste as 
other people." 

Mr. Galaday felt the force of this argument, 
especially of the emphasis which Mrs. Eestless laid 
on the words eloquent speaking, as she at the same 
time tipped Mrs. Galaday the wink. 

After a short pause, during which Mr. Galaday 
composed himself by caning the dust out of his 
gaiters, he rallied himself and said : 

" But you ought to have heard Dr. Action this 
morning. Such smoothness and softness of voice ! 
and then what graceful gestures !" 

"What was Mr. Action's text?" asks Mrs. Eest- 
less. 

"I don't recollect." 

" Tou can give us the subject perhaps, or at least 
one of the heads of the sermon?" asks Mrs. Gala- 
day, wishing to help her husband out of his diffi- 
culties. 

"No ma'am, I can give neither text, nor subject, 
nor division. Thank God, I seldom pay any atten- 
tion to those small matters ; but his gestures were 
graceful beyond description. When quoting those 
words of — St. Matthew ? yes, if my memory serves 
me ; | from Jerusalem round about unto Illyricum,' 
he turned his back upon us, and then faced about 
with such a curvilinear swing of the arm, and such 
a delightful toss of the hand when he came to 1 Illy- 
ricum,' Il-lyr-i-cum ! Il-lyr-i-cum ! 7" — all which Mr. 
Galaday accompanied with manipulations that would 
not have disgraced Cicero himself. 

Mr. Eestless and Mr. Coupon, his partner in 



72 



SUNDAY CONVERSATION. 



stock-jobbing, now came in. Mr. Galaday observ- 
ing that Mr. Restless had an anxious look, asked : 

"Any panic in the money market, Mr. Restless ? 
You seem a little nervous." 

" No, sir, there is no panic either in the market 
or among my nerves. Only I cannot digest certain 
doctrines which a mad preacher has just been cram- 
ming down my throat. Mr. Coupon would have me 
go with him to hear Mr. Evangely, of whom he had 
heard so much said that he felt some curiosity to 
know who he is. We were seated among a great 
crowd, and I soon saw there was no chance for spec- 
ulation there. The preacher stood up, and among 
other things gave us all to understand that we were 
sinners. Then how vulgar ! I did not hear one big 
word, such as permeation, or adumbration, or olfus- 
cation. Tell me I am a sinner will he ?" 

Here Mr. Coupon, who was also troubled with con- 
victions which he wished to get rid of, gave another 
turn to the conversation. 

" Whether you are a sinner or not, Mr. Restless, I 
will not take upon me to say. That you are a stock- 
broker I am certain. How do you think fancies will 
open to-morrow ?" 

" Why, yesterday being Christmas," replies Rest- 
less, " there was nothing doing ; so that to-morrow 
fancies must open buoyant and active, to make up." 

" But the bears will try to break down the market." 

" Of course they will try, but they will find it up- 
hill work, or to speak zoologically, down-hill work ; 
for the bulls will not only toss up prices, but will set 
the bears going down hill with a continual som- 
erset." 



SUNDAY CONVERSATION. 



73 



"Yet the two special fancies, Bristol and York, 
ran down on Friday very fast. The former closed 
at a decline of seven and a half per cent., and the 
latter at a decline of three per cent. Some other 
fancies are now largely inflated." 

"For all that, I think the bulls may feel confident 
of a rise of some importance." 

While Messrs. Restless and Coupon were thus en- 
larging upon the stock-market, and Mr. Galaday 
listening with the close attention of a novice on 
'Change, Mrs. Eestless was questioning her sister as 
to some doubtful points of country scandal. 

" I have heard that Byron Rake is flirting with 
Cecilia Christian. What did report say when you 
left ?" 

" It said as you have said — so Mrs. Tattle told me ; 
she said she had it from Mrs. Gabble, who had it 
from Miss Prattle, who had it from Miss Whisper, 
who had it from Miss Lovejoke; so it comes direct, 
and must be true." 

" It does not surprise me," sagely remarks Mrs. 
Restless ; "I never thought Cecilia Christian as good 
as she pretends to be." 

" Say what they will, I think Byron Rake good 
enough for her — quite good enough." 

At dinner, which was the most sumptuous one of 
the week, the conversation grew more earthly ; the 
gossip of the town, anecdote, badinage, and pun- 
ning being indulged in by old and young. In this 
way, and by the help of some piano-forte and harp 
music in the style of Rossini, they managed to kill 
God's time, though they were not able wholly to 
smother his groans, or to hide the traces of his blood. 

D 



74 



SUNDAY CONVERSATION. 



In the evening the whole company went to an 
Oratorio, except Kose Restless, who was engaged at 
home by the attentions of Mr. Simpleton, 

Much of the small-talk which passed in this family 
during the day my pen refuses to record, saying it 
was so small that it can see no use in taking note of 
it, unless to show that the interlocutors are not ra- 
tional, and therefore not accountable beings— but, 
my pen, they are all accountable beings, and some 
of them went to church in the morning, and confessed 
they were " miserable sinners." Yet they have con- 
trived to pass the day very comfortable sinners — com- 
fortable in making an oblivion of the resurrection of . 
the Redeemer — an event which they profess on this 
day to commemorate, by a resurrection of their souls 
from the sepulchre of worldly thoughts and pursuits 
— comfortable in talking of millinery and fashions, 
music and eloquence, lucre and amours, flirtations 
and what not, instead of talking of Him, whose guile- 
less tongue dropped with wormwood and gall to 
atone for our sinful words. 

The due observance of this holy day requires us to 
keep our tongues, no less than our hands, from the 
usual employments of the secular week. As the 
tongue shares in the toil and moil of the week, it, 
along with the other organs, needs respite, that it 
may return with renewed strength to engage in the 
commerce of mind. By employing a share of this 
sacred time in abstinence from spiritual discourse 
even, devoting it to serious meditation and secret 
prayer, we shall improve the moral purity and intel- 
lectual tone of our week-day talks. The stream of 
conversation should not be always dashing on like an 



SUNDAY CONVERSATION. 



75 



Alpine torrent. If its waters are to flow musically 
and clear, they must be allowed to subside here and 
there in deep and untroubled pools, where the sand 
and mire they picked up in their swifter currents 
may settle at the bottom, and whence may be given 
back, in melodious tones, the echoes of the babbling 
rapids. 

Of the promise made to the sons of Jacob, that 
they should find delight in the Lord, ride upon the 
high places of the earth, and be fed with the heri- 
tage of their father, one of the conditions was that 
they should not sjpeah their own words on the sabbath. 
There is, in the keeping of this condition the work- 
ing out of such a glorious result from natural causes, 
and apart from Providential interposition. The way 
we spend fifty-two days in each year, or the seventh 
part of our mortal lifetime, must tell incalculably for 
good or evil upon the present and eternal character 
of our souls. If it is our wont on one day in the 
week to select, with jealous care, the themes of our 
talks, the habit will do much to bring the tongue into 
that entire subjection which is the inspired mark of 
"the perfect man." On the other hand the habitual 
profanation of the sabbath by secular conversation, 
sinks the soul by degrees into the deepest moral deg- 
radation. An Oriental legend tells us that while Sol- 
omon was once on his way to pay a visit to the Queen 
of Sheba, he came to a valley in which dwelt a pecu- 
liar tribe of monkeys. Upon inquiring into their his- 
tory, he learned that they were the posterity of a 
colony of Jews, who, settling in that region many 
years before, had, by habitually profaning the sab- 
bath, gradually degenerated into the brutes he found 



76 



SUNDAY CONVERSATION". 



them. This story has more foundation in truth than 
in fact, though it does not illustrate the whole truth 
as to the effects of sabbath-breaking ; for while, in 
this world, it sinks the human soul and body nearly 
to a level with brute life, in the world to come it 
sinks both in a perdition, where to take the lowest 
place in the lowest rank of brute being, and to be 
allowed the lowest gratifications of brute instinct, 
would be an honor and a happiness which the de- 
spairing spirit will be denied the pleasure of hoping 
to enjoy even in the latest futurity. 



CHAPTEE V. 



CONVERSATION IN GENERAL SOCIETY. 

None but topics of common interest can, with 
strict propriety, be admitted into promiscuous com- 
panies. But, as such topics are few, and as some 
freedom is generally preferred to the risk of reducing 
the circle to silence, this rule is often disregarded. 
The weather, health, business, news, politics, history, 
art, science, and general literature, are among the 
themes that are usually tolerated here. Unhappily, 
the Christian religion must be omitted in this enu- 
meration. We say the Christian religion, for religion, 
as a general subject, embracing the Mahometan, 
Braminical, in short every faith but our own, is wel- 
comed in these circles. The evangelical system is 
studiously excluded, not so much because it is not a 
matter of general interest as because it is one of 
deep-felt concern, and liable, consequently, to raise 
zeal, hatred, or disgust, according to the principles 
and tempers of the conversers. The cross is a stum- 
bling block in all companies where the tone is 
earthly ; and since it is so, and nothing but the gen- 
eral prevalence of vital piety can make it otherwise, 
it were better for the friends of the gospel to keep it 
out of such companies, lest, by being forced upon 



78 



CONVEESATION IN 



them, it be loaded with needless reproach. The en- 
deavor to couple Christianity with worldliness, and 
to exhibit it out of place, has often made it an object 
of indignation to men of the world. When they be- 
hold the cross in strange fellowship with their idols, 
they lose that reverence for it which it commanded 
when it was viewed apart. They regard our religion 
with nearly the same feelings that the Japanese do, 
who hold a yearly festival for trampling on the cru- 
cifix. 

People of the world do but obey their depraved an- 
tipathies when they keep aloof from the cross of 
Christ, whereas they do violence to their nature when 
they abstain from talking on religion in general. 
There is a religious sentiment common to man, such 
as some idea of God and of a future state ; and this 
sentiment generally finds expression by seeking some 
substitute for the humiliating terms of the gospel. 
Many deem it a mark of reverence to the Supreme 
Being, and to pious persons, occasionally to allude to 
the general subject- — a mark of reverence which will, 
as they suppose, serve to distinguish them from vul- 
gar and godless sinners with whom they would other- 
wise be in danger of being confounded. 

Such persons are, for the most part, willing to talk 
on the subject of morality so long as we discourse in 
the style of Aristotle, Epictetus, or Marcus Antoni- 
nus. They are careful to keep clear of all the dis- 
tinctive features of evangelical morality. While, 
therefore, the Christian should concede to their phil- 
osophical ethics whatever of excellence it may pos- 
sess, he must not forget to point them to a higher 
code. This resolution of President Edwards was a 



GENERAL SOCIETY. 



79 



good one : " When I am conversing on morality, I 
will turn it over, by application, exemplification, or 
otherwise, to Christianity." 

It is seldom advisable, as we just now intimated, 
to drag evangelical themes into the gay and festive 
concourse. Those who do it, lay themselves open to 
the charge of plotting against the object of the party, 
of being misled by fanaticism, and above all, of low- 
ering the dignity of religion and profaning its sanc- 
tities. It is a law of poetical propriety not to intro- 
duce a god, except on an occasion worthy of a god. 
The principle is as applicable to manners as it is to 
poetry. Evangelical religion does not look well 
shouldering her way into a crowd of jolly and un- 
thinking worldlings. We would by no means drive 
piety from all places except church edifices, cloisters, 
and death-beds. We simply caution the Christian 
against too freely discoursing on his religion among 
those who would blame him as irreverent, or mock 
him as ridiculous. However, when we happen to 
be conversing with an individual out of ear-range 
of others, it is sometimes proper to dwell on the 
subject. 

But when evangelical conversation is introduced 
in mixed companies, as it sometimes ought to be, it 
will be cheerfully tolerated by every true lady and 
gentleman, and instead of being shocked at it, as 
some exquisite people affect to be, these will take 
part in it. Lord Chesterfield and Lord Bolingbroke, 
deists though they were, showed their gentility by 
a pleasant and liberal bearing towards the pious per- 
sons with whom they lived on terms of intimacy. A 
well-bred unbeliever will also so far respect the feel- 



80 



CONVERSATION IN 



ings of a Christian, as to discountenance all ribaldry, 
scoffing, and profane swearing in his presence. 

Moralizing is, in general, ill-received in these com- 
panies. We should not speak against a vice which 
individuals of the party are known or suspected to 
be guilty of, or praise a virtue in which they are 
notoriously deficient. All moral reflections, proverbs, 
and precepts, are liable to be received as personal 
attacks on character. Neither is it prudent in such 
circles to expatiate on the virtues of the absent ; for 
some hearer will think his own excellences vilified 
in proportion as we exalt those of others. 

It devolves on us, however, to defend the absent 
when they are calumniated; only not too warmly, 
for it occasionally falls out that he who speaks dis- 
paragingly of another, means only to give information 
that was, as he supposed, reliable or well known. To 
disabuse such a one with bluntness, pertness, or an 
air of conceit, is not to act the part of a gentleman, 
much less of a Christian. Another thing, by a too 
fervent vindication of our friend, we may give cause 
to think that his character is not beyond suspicion, 
or that we have some ulterior purpose to serve by 
flying to his defence. 

The same may be said of our treatment of those 
who ridicule the doctrines of the Gospel, or speak 
contemptuously of its professors in general. As the 
gauntlet is in such cases impliedly thrown, we are 
tempted to take it up too eagerly. When the re- 
marks of the malignant are likely to be received with 
disfavor, silence is perhaps the most pointed and 
effectual reply. But when foolish and vain talkers 
are heard with applause, their mouths must be 



GENERAL SOCIETY. 



81 



stopped. It now becomes the Christian, meekly and 
composedly, to put them to silence. And though 
bystanders could have wished that he had not put 
a period to their chuckling, and spoiled the joy of a 
fancied triumph ; still, even they, in their more sober 
moments, may inwardly approve his conduct. If 
they should not, it will signify little, so long as his 
own conscience blesses itself for the deed, and angels 
kiss his lips for giving a right answer. 

It has been thought that the best way to promote 
sociableness in promiscuous society, i& for each one to 
lay aside every peculiarity of religious and political 
opinions, and all professional and local habits. This 
rule may be advantageously kept by friends and 
acquaintances, who have been long known to one 
another. In an assembly of people, many of whom 
have never seen or heard of one another before, we 
should take a different course. Here, nothing is so 
great an aid to conversation as an unreserved con- 
fession of our religious faith, political principles, pro- 
fession, business, and such like things. Many Chris- 
tians mistake here. Misled by the aforesaid regula- 
tion, or dreading the charge of Pharisaic ostenta- 
tion, they conceal their religious profession and be- 
lief from people of the world. The consequence is, 
that the latter are at a loss for suitable topics when 
they are in the company of those whose character 
and faith have not been disclosed to them. Aware 
that an offence against religious scruples or sec- 
tarian prepossessions, is of a very serious nature, 
they remain silent, or speak with fear and restraint. 
It ought to be considered an act of true courtesy, for 
strangers to make known to one another — in a mod- 



82 



CONVERSATION IN 



est and graceful manner of course — those facts con- 
cerning themselves which must be known before 
they can treat one another with complaisance, or 
even with respect. 

The same observation holds good as to a frank 
avowal of our sentiments on any subject, or the bold 
announcement of any principle that, for the time, we 
choose to maintain. Then each one knows whom he 
is to meet, and the opinions with which he is con- 
fronted. Freedom of speech, when it is once pro- 
claimed, is a wonderful peace-maker among ill-sort- 
ed groups. Every one feels that he has a property 
in it, and when he enjoys it and sees all who are 
around him enjoying it, he is brought into fellowship 
with all ; he feels that all are related to him, if not 
by agreement, yet by antagonism. His strayed 
thoughts now come trooping to him as if at the blast 
of a rallying trumpet, and his once enthralled tongue 
rouses and shakes off its irons as the inspiriting 
sound of liberty breaks upon his ear. Hitherto the 
tyranny and intolerance of fashion forced him to re- 
press the mighty risings of truth, and gather about 
his person a cloak of secrecy and reserve. Others 
did the like, so that while it was the interest of none 
to discover, it was the business of all to conceal. 
Now he finds himself among children of the light, 
who in nobly laying open their principles, cause 
truth to descend from the skies in all her divine 
charms, and dwell among her votaries. It is scarce 
possible that any important principle should be dis- 
cussed, illustrated, or established among people who 
meet as at masquerades, not to appear in their own, 
but in fictitious characters. 



GENERAL SOCIETY. 



83 



The foregoing remarks are to be received with 
some limitations. Great freedom of opinion is haz- 
ardous where many of the company are mere tran- 
sient acquaintances, whom we see no more, and where 
as is often the case, certain persons refusing to join 
in the talk sit as reporters and spies upon those who 
do. For this reason professors should not, in mixed 
circles, speak on awkward and scandalous affairs 
connected with church discipline. We have known 
professors to make the faults and infirmities of their 
brethren matter of animadversion and derision in 
the hearing of those who inly rejoiced at the ex- 
posure of the dishonorable parts of the church. " I 
said," is the language of David, "I will keep my 
mouth with a bridle while the wicked is before me." 
It is not our duty, indeed, to go into society chilled 
with suspicion : only we should be careful not to drop 
one word, in the company of the irreligious, that they 
can pick up and bandy about to the hurt of the Lord's 
little ones. 

It must be apparent to any one, that there are some 
impediments to a free interchange of thought be- 
tween those who are of so opposite a character as 
the saint and the sinner. The Christian cannot con- 
verse familiarly with the man of the world unless he 
finds in the latter a congeniality of intellectual tastes 
and of secular pursuits. He feels an awkward re- 
straint, arising partly from the fewness of the sub- 
jects that are entertaining to both, and partly from 
a fear that the world-wide difference that exists in 
their moral feelings will inadvertently show itself in 
distance of manner. Hence he is forced to talk on 
neutral subjects only, or if ever on contested ones, he 



84 



CONVERSATION IN 



must studiously shun arguments drawn from his re- 
ligion. He must touch upon the most soul-stirring 
truths with an unoffending indifference. The rising 
ardor which is inflamed by divine realities being thus 
repeatedly checked, finally languishes and expires. 
Surely piety cannot thrive in places whence God is 
by law excluded, and where not a single spark of 
holy zeal can kindle but it must be extinguished 
the moment it begins to glow. Out of a misguided 
complaisance we use mollifying terms to express 
mildly, truths that are in their very nature severe ; 
we speak of doctrines which we find to be disagree- 
able to others, as if they were of little concern to us ; 
we hear offensive truths questioned without defend- 
ing them, and so by insensible degrees glide into in- 
difference, doubt and unbelief. By often consenting 
to dismiss serious thoughts, He whose name is Jeal- 
ous, is provoked to retire from the soul. This is the 
natural result of conformity to the world. 

Men of the world exact of the Christian a stricter 
obedience to the laws of society than they do of any 
one of themselves. It is no greater infringement of 
good breeding to declare his religious principles than 
for the man of the world to deliver diatribes on his 
politics, his estate, his horses, or his dogs, or to in- 
terlace his frivolities with profane scoffs or reckless 
blasphemy. If the worldling may bring in his hob- 
bies, why may not the saint bring in his fiery char 
iot ; if the former may curvet and amble by the 
hour, round the circle on his favorite themes, what 
great crime can it be for the latter to take the cross 
upon his shoulders and carry it for awhile ? When 
all are taking sides in every earthly cause, and no 



GENERAL SOCIETY. 



85 



one leaves it doubtful what are his opinions on the 
great political and scientific questions of the day, 
who shall forbid the Christian to insinuate that he 
is a worshipper of God rather than of mammon, and 
that he espouses the cause of the Prince of Peace. 
We are aware that as the world now goes, the Chris- 
tian who feels justified in going into such company 
must submit to all that custom imposes. Nor can 
We advise any one to set himself to change the tone 
or spirit of a company, inasmuch as this grows out 
of the very dispositions, talents, acquirements and 
vocations of those who compose it. When this tone 
is decidedly secular, he must in some degree chime 
in with it. Still, in the most worldly company in 
which the Christian may lawfully appear, he should 
at least casually touch upon the subject of religion, 
and in some instances he may speak there more at 
large. 

It is evidently the duty of the Christian in society 
to endeavor, by every prudent means, to elevate the 
standard of morals, and to give a right direction to 
talk when it is straying on dangerous ground. Here 
success will much depend on a talent for improving 
opportunities, and more on the grace which ever 
keeps the mind in a condition to watch for them. 
Says the son of Sirach, "Refrain not to speak when 
there is occasion to do good, and hide not thy wis- 
dom in her beauty." The code of morals which is 
received by the generality of people is little better 
than an abstract of the criminal statutes. The Chris- 
tian should, at convenient times, and in an agreeable 
way, show them its scantiness by contrasting it with 
the gospel morality. As many persons do not dis- 



86 



CONVERSATION IN 



relish the subject of morals, they will join him in 
condemning a breach of them. And though he 
should carefully avoid fault-finding and a wanton op- 
position to the opinion of others, he must, on the 
other hand, take care that his views and theirs of re- 
ligious subjects, do not seem exactly alike, when, in 
fact, they are very dissimilar. It is enough that he 
consent to meet them on any common ground, with- 
out endeavoring, for the sake of pleasing, to recon- 
cile his God with their Baal, and his faith with their 
refuge of lies. He may occasionally draw some 
moral or spiritual reflection from secular topics al- 
ready started, and oppose Divine truth to the mis- 
chievous principles that so widely prevail in the 
world. 

The consistent believer will naturally, in these 
companies, recognize the hand of God in events 
which other people are apt to impute to the agency 
of man, or to chance. He will not refuse to discourse 
on second causes, but he will always refer them 
finally to the Great First Cause. He will talk with 
the naturalist of the laws of nature, but he will not, 
as the naturalist is prone to do, stop at those laws. 
He will talk with the politician on the connection 
w T hich war, intrigue, policy, and political economy, 
have with the present posture of affairs. This he 
will cheerfully do, in order to show that it is not from 
ignorance, but from piety, that he ever keeps in 
mind the operations of Providence. 

It is wortlry of remark that it is not necessary to the 
adornment of our profession that we be always talking 
about religion. "We shall best preserve a character 
for piety by talking in its spirit. Many whose lips are 



GE^ T EilAL SOCIETY. 



87 



often made the channel of religious thought, show in 
their demeanor few of the marks of operative grace. 
They have a haughtiness of mien and a severity of 
tone which true charity wots not of. She suffereth 
long and is kind. Those sticklers of orthodoxy who 
torture every sentence that will not exactly answer to 
the Procrustes' bed of their creed, and cry out 
against every sentence that is not just as they would 
have it, prove that the faith they so zealously defend 
has not made them meek and gentle in life. Such 
as rebuke without mercy, every transgressor that 
comes in their way, or such as set up for religious 
instructors, or always fly to the defence of religion 
before it has been attacked, do less to recommend 
their doctrines than those who, if they do not often 
allude to the letter of the Gospel, show, in a thou- 
sand nameless ways, that their hearts feel its power. 
To handle sacred things with due reverence, to man- 
ifest a spiritual mind in the selection and treatment 
of themes, to diffuse a heavenly savor over all one's 
communications, to speak of the faults of others with 
charity and compassion, to have a tender concern for 
the feelings of others, to bear submissively arrogance 
and rudeness, to abide affliction and wrong with 
cheerfulness, these and many other actions like these 
do more to convince the world of the reality of the 
Christian faith, than the aptest quotations, weightiest 
arguments, and the strongest protestations on its be- 
half. "Let your speech," says Paul, "be always 
with grace, seasoned with salt." He would have 
divine grace send out its holy and pleasant influences 
in all our discourse, and the salt of sacred truth — not 
in the crude mass, but in solution and diffusion, pre- 



88 



CONVERSATION IN 



serve all our sentiments from moral taint, and season 
even the most common and secular subjects. We 
hear plenty of people talk of this clergyman or the 
other, of the singing of choirs, of the people they saw 
at church, of the architecture of a church edifice — 
when shall we stop ? Ah, we fear this enumeration 
of themes must end where the marks of heartfelt de- 
votion begin. It is not enough that we ply our 
tongues about the forms and appendages of religion, 
all our words and actions should declare its effects. 
The whiteness of the galaxy, when viewed through a 
large telescope, is resolved into millions of stars, 
whose interwoven rays form the zone that girds the 
spangled robe of night. Even thus should the Chris- 
tian, in his intercourse with the world, display a 
character to the formation of which every divine in- 
fluence has administered its share, and a conduct in 
which, if every grace does not always severally ap- 
pear, yet a conduct which is the pure, and mild, and 
sublime result of them all. 

Hence the importance of going into society with a 
thorough preparation of spirit. So manifold and 
powerful are the temptations that compass the Chris- 
tian there, he cannot pray too fervently for Divine 
guidance and protection. Without previous self-ex- 
amination, meditation, and prayer, and without 
always keeping up the watch while he is in compa- 
ny, he will be liable, by his misdoings, to excite the 
contempt, if not the derision, of earthlings. In a 
thoughtless hour he will resolve, perhaps, to lose 
himself in the mazes of the gay assembly, but he is 
not, let him be assured, lost sight of by those who 
may appear to take no notice of his behavior at the 



GENERAL SOCIETY. 



89 



time, and very likely that for the time some may for- 
get his profession. But in an after-hour of sober re- 
view, they will call it to mind, and its incongruity 
with his conduct will be an object of scandal and 
scorn. As the person who would not appear ridicu- 
lous, must not go into company with higher spirits 
than those of other people, so the Christian who 
would not be despised must not enter the circles of 
the world with any other feelings than such as they 
have reason to expect from his religious profession. 
He must take care to say nothing that cannot stand 
the test of those who appear there under " a cloak 
of maliciousness" — nothing which, when separated 
from the hilarity that gave it birth, and was then its 
apology, can bear a meaning which the speaker 
never thought of. Against such surprises, prayer, 
and the grace it obtains, are the best of safeguards. 
He who comes down into the world, direct from the 
audience-chamber of the King of kings, will bring 
with him the recollection of the petitions he there 
offered up, and the gravity and moderation which he 
observed in that august presence. 



CHAPTER VI. 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER RELATIVE TO HIS 
SPIRITUAL INTERESTS. 

Conversations with unrenewed individuals on 
the subject of personal religion, is a very important, 
though much-neglected duty. The preacher address- 
ing, as he often must, large mixed assemblies, cannot 
easily bring each hearer to feel the glad tidings of 
salvation to be his personal concern. Men but too 
often regard the arrows of truth as they do those of 
death, as never aimed at themselves, though they 
know multitudes who, in their opinion, are fit and 
appointed marks. The pious converser does not en- 
counter this difficulty. He comes to the sinner as 
Elijah did to Ahab, and as Nathan did to David. 
He turns away the sinner from hearing and judging 
of the sins of others, and leads him to exercise con- 
trition before God, and faith in Christ. 

The generality of sinners expect that those who 
have experienced a radical change of heart and life, 
who are actuated by the love of Christ and the hopes 
of the gospel, will recommend to their kindred, 
friends, and neighbors, the grace they have found, 
and warn them of the danger to which they believe 
them exposed. The sinner asks himself, " Shall the 
Christian, who professes to be an heir of a celestial 



INTERVIEW WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 91 

inheritance, and believes that I may, if I will, gain 
one equally rich, shall he neglect to persuade me to 
secure a blissful provision for eternity ? Does he 
declare himself my friend, and yet when he sees 
my soul hanging over the brink of the fiery lake, 
into which if I fall there can be no rescue, cannot 
tell me of my peril ? Has his great physician healed 
him, and can he refrain from recommending Him to 
me, who am, as he says, dying of the disease of 
which he is cured ? He is concerned for my secular 
affairs : he counsels, warns, persuades me, with re- 
spect to them, and can he be silent concerning the 
supreme and the infinite good ? If he be sincere, 
and if he be my friend, he will speak to me on this 
subject; and though I wish he would not do it, he 
cares not for my soul and he is a hypocrite, if he does 
not." It is a good rule in this case, as it is in many 
others, to enquire what does the man of the world 
expect of me ? Though some may affect surprise that 
we should address them on this subject, we may be 
assured that such surprise is dissembled. There is 
a very general expectation among unregenerate sin- 
ners, that Christians will press upon their hearts and 
consciences the claims of the Redeemer. 

And let the Christian be encouraged to the task 
by the consideration that the conscience of the sin- 
ner is on his side. However wide-spread may be the 
moral desolation within him, there is yet a voice 
crying in the wilderness of his soul, " Eepent !" and 
that voice will answer to every faithful appeal on 
the part of the Christian. His conscience will not, 
to be sure, always lessen his present resistance : for 
being attacked both from within and from without, 



92 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVEE. 



he may be driven to desperation, and lay hold of un- 
. gentle weapons of defence. But though the benevo- 
lent offices of his pious friend should be ungratefully 
resisted at the time, let him hope that he has left 
the memorial of them graven on a tablet that will 
one day engage the sinner's serious attention, be a 
motive to penitence, and a theme of gratitude through- 
out the whole course of his being. 

It is a common remark that Christians are more 
apt to recoil from the duty of serious conversation 
with their kindred and friends than with other per- 
sons. We will not stop to inquire into the causes of 
this aversion — causes which operate with too fatal 
regularity. Whatever they are, our chief concern 
must be to remove them. The untold influence which 
relations and friends mutually exert over one another, 
for good or for evil, should be employed to break 
the spell which the world casts over the soul, and 
conduct it up the steeps of Golgotha. It seems as if 
the Destroyer used his wisest arts to dissuade the 
saints from taking advantage of the natural affec- 
tions, to allure souls to the cross, by availing them- 
selves of which, they might do most to lessen the 
number of his victims. 

What bitter lamentations has the omission of this 
duty occasioned — lamentations rendered all the more 
bitter by the reflection that the consequences of such 
delinquency could not be remedied by any future 
diligence. How many have thought with one who 
excused himself till too late from the duty of speak- 
ing to an acquaintance on the subject of his salva- 
tion. His language is, " Oh," thought I, "that I had 
listened to the voice of God's Spirit, and had done 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 93 

my duty. Perhaps I might have saved his soul 
from perdition ; at least I might have cleared my 
own skirts and washed my hands in innocency. But 
now, alas ! it is too late ! forever too late ! his doom is 
irrevocably sealed !" A Christian mother, who had 
deferred from time to time the duty of leading the 
heart of her son to Christ, after his sudden death 
was heard to chide her fatal delays in these words : 
" He has gone into eternity and left me distracted 
with anxiety concerning the salvation of his precious 
soul ! Dilatory wretch ! Had it not been for my own 
sin, I might now have been consoling myself with 
the satisfactory conviction of having discharged the 
duty of a Christian parent, and enjoying the delight- 
ful assurance of meeting my child before the throne 
of God and the Lamb. Oh the accursed sin of pro- 
crastination ! Oh the ruinous delusion that lurks in 
the word to-morrow /" 

How much good may one do in a lifetime by seiz- 
ing every occasion of speaking for Christ. The 
writer once learned a lesson from a slave, which has 
been very beneficial to him. Some years ago, while 
paying a visit to Mount Vernon, he chanced to be 
strolling alone among the cabins of the negroes be- 
longing to the estate, when he saw an aged negress 
sitting on a threshold smoking her pipe. He ven- 
tured to draw nigh and ask her if she had known 
Washington. Instead of a direct answer she asked, 
"Do you know God?" " I hope I know something 
of Him, ma'am." "How then may one know God, 
sir?" " We may learn something about his goodness 
and handiwork, from what we see in yonder garden, 
and in these beautiful trees." " You're right, Massa ; 



94 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

but is there no other way of knowing Him?" "Yes, 
ma 5 am, we may also learn something of Him from 
his dealings with the sons of men, the history of na- 
tions, and the lives of individuals." " Can we ? But 
in no other way?" "From the Bible we gain more 
knowledge of God than from all the other sources 
put together." " Yes indeed, and is there no othei 
way ?" " By experience." — Laying her hand upon 
her heart, and lifting her bleared eyes to heaven, 
she exclaimed, " Ah, now you have it, Massa !" 
That countenance, though it bore the marks of 
nearly a hundred years of servitude, seemed to 
reflect the smile of an angel. After further pious 
discourse, she told me she had seen Washington but 
once, and that was when she was a cook in the camp 
of the army that fought under him. When the 
writer left the door of the humble cabin, he felt that 
there were other spots at Mount Yernon not less 
sacred than the tomb, the house, and the garden of 
Washington; he considered how many blessed im- 
pressions she had made on the minds of the gay 
children of this world who daily visited the spot. 
This was piety not to be doubted of. In a painting 
of the Last Judgment, by Orcagna, Solomon is repre- 
sented rising from the dead, uncertain which way to 
turn, and those about him seem at a loss whither 
to direct him — such is the uncertainty felt by too 
many of the great ones of this world, and such is the 
uncertainty too many of their acquaintance must feel 
concerning their eternal destiny. But who could 
talk with this poor slave for five minutes, and enter- 
tain a single doubt as to her citizenship? While 
men of patient research are anxiously comparing 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 95 

notes, to make out the shadow of a hope as to the 
hereafter of some of our greatest statesmen, the name 
of Hannah Nugent — that was her name — must ever 
be synonymous with piety, in the minds of all who 
knew her. Many whose names are adopted into all 
languages, never to be obsolete in any coming gene- 
ration, and are written on the stars, will envy her 
glory when they shall behold her name recorded in 
the Lamb's book of life. Oh Lord, how long shall 
a doubtful piety be thought necessary to gain a po- 
litical popularity. But we are wandering from our 
subject; however, we may sometimes become better 
acquainted with a country we are travelling through, 
by losing our way than by keeping the beaten road. 

The very important work we are considering, 
should not be undertaken without previous prayer. 
We need to be impressed with the conviction that 
success will not depend altogether upon our address 
or a happy combination of circumstances. The fal- 
tering word, the broken but heart-felt entreaty, or the 
honest but ill- worded warning has, when directed by 
the Divine spirit, often been known to reach the 
heart, and prepare a place for repentance. Prayer 
is an essential preliminary to this duty, both because 
it obtains the co-operation of the Holy Ghost, and 
because the very act brings the soul into that hum- 
ble, confiding, and earnest posture, with which we 
should enter upon the performance of the duty. 

The Christian who is accustomed to perform this 
duty, will occasionally find the prayers with which 
he prepared for the conference, immediately an- 
swered, the Holy Ghost gone before him, already 
in possession of the sinner's soul, and waiting to 



96 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

welcome his approach. He will find the work, to 
which he looked forward with so many anxieties, 
anticipated by the sinner himself, and be happily 
surprised to meet with a true Israelite dwelling in 
Meshech, or perhaps one whose heart is transfixed 
with the arrow of conviction, and implores his hand 
to disengage its barb ; or one who has a timid hope 
that needs encouragement. With what joy does it 
repay the tears of him who goes forth to the spiritual 
harvest, to see the sheaves in a manner already 
bound on the wain, and coming forth to meet the 
husbandman. 

Another chief qualification is a tender spirit. To be 
able to recollect our own former stubbornness, blind- 
ness, and insensibility, and to bear them in mind in 
our exhortations to the ungodly, to realize his true, 
not his fancied condition, to have compassion on his 
lost soul, to " warn with tears, 55 and to receive his 
taunts and rebuffs with meekness ; these carry with 
them an eloquence that can melt the heart of flint, 
and break the iron will. There is no virtue more 
peculiarly Christ-like than this tenderness, and those 
in whom it appears, give to the sinner the best evi- 
dence of the reality and power of the Christian faith. 

This duty should also be performed in a sweet and 
unpretending manner. Those greatly mistake who 
put on sour and sanctimonious airs, and use a studied 
solemnity of speech in urging the sinner to duty. 
Seriousness and earnestness there must be, but what 
need is there of a severe and repulsive bearing? Let 
it be sufficient to press upon the conscience forbid- 
ding truths, without adding thereto the weight of an 
offensive address. Yet, we would not be understood 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 97 

to favor that light and negligent* behavior, by which 
some endeavor to gain for their persuasives a ready- 
lodgment in the heart. This extreme is, if possible, 
more ill-placed than the other. 

It is the current practice in introducing pious 
conversation, to follow the course of common talk 
until an occasion offers of turning it in a spiritual 
direction. This is done with a view to conciliate 
the person addressed, without startling or affront- 
ing him by a blunt and dashing address. In pur- 
suing this method we must not suffer the secular 
topic to be so long dwelt on as to excite a livelier 
interest than can be enlisted on the side of re- 
ligion. If we give worldly matters the start, they 
are apt to keep foremost, unless we speedily overtake 
them. We should not talk on such subjects so as to 
raise them into undue consequence, but so as either 
to make them appear in their own comparative in- 
significance, or to make them a graceful introduction 
to higher themes. But in doing this we should not 
indulge a censorious spirit which snatches up every 
word that drops from another's lips, and applies to 
it the rule of morality and the gauge of orthodoxy. 
Some good people talk with a man of the world as 
if their religion were the only object in the universe 
that deserved the slightest attention of mortals. If 
one admires a work of art, they observe that it is a 
trifle to an immortal being, or it is nothing in com- 
parison with the achievments of divine grace. They 
seem to suppose they cannot do justice to Christian- 
ity unless they do injustice to everything beside. 
That baubles do captivate the souls of multitudes is 
a -most dejriorable fact; but we shall hardly convince 

E 



98 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

them of their foil/ on those occasions when they 
are the most highly delighted with these baubles, or 
when they are calling on us to share the pleasure 
they take in seeing and talking about them. We 
should close our hearts against that cynical spirit 
which says to every subject that is like to eclipse our 
favorite one : " Stand out of my light." We should 
aim to make religion the most important concern, 
without betraying too strong a contempt for what 
others deem equally important. The indirect mode 
of address of which we are speaking is, we fear, oft- 
ener resorted to than is warranted by the dignity 
and sacredness of the duty or the simplicity and 
earnestness which should ever attend its perform- 
ance. Though it may sometimes be employed in 
talking with individuals of their spiritual interests, 
it is principally useful in raising the tone of conver- 
sation in mixed companies. 

And these indirect approaches would be less de- 
manded were we more careful to bring forward the 
subject with a pertinent introduction. Such intro- 
duction might take the shape of an apology, confess- 
ion, interrogation, or explanation. We do not sug- 
gest these as the only allowable ways of commencing 
interviews of this kind. Occasions and circum- 
stances are so various, that no specifications would 
be adapted to every case. If, as we have hinted, we 
engage in a long talk on a subject foreign to the one 
contemplated, before the latter is introduced, we are 
in danger of dissipating those serious feelings which 
are answerable to the nature of the duty. But if the 
Christian comes straightway from communion with 
God, his lips touched with a live coal off the altar of 



INTERVIEWS "WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 99 



grace, and shedding around him fragrance from the 
censer of prayer, making some introductory remarks 
relating either to the moral relations of the parties 
or to the subject to be urged, his manner will be 
marked by a noble frankness and gentle courage 
which are every-way worthy of the child of God and 
of his benevolent purpose. 

The course here suggested is different from that of 
him who ushers in the subject of religion as inform- 
ally as he does a secular affair, pronounces sacred 
names as familiarly as he does profane, degrades the 
most awful subjects to a level with the trifles of a 
day, and appalls even the confirmed Christian with 
unlooked-for and misplaced homilies. Nevertheless, 
when the feelings of the man are right, and his de- 
fect is one of judgment only, a generous man of the 
world will pardon much in him. His sublime intent 
will throw a faulty manner into the shade. 

To converse successfully with an impenitent per- 
son we must meet him alone. While he is surround- 
ed with his associates, he is kept in countenance by 
them. The fear of incurring their scorn, or perhaps 
the encouragement he receives from their presence, 
keeps him from hearing us with candor and serious- 
ness. He is tempted to disguise his real sentiments 
and to play a false part. If we can only separate 
him from his confederates, he will probably talk on 
the subject with little reserve, especially if we are 
almost or quite strangers to him. We should not, 
therefore, in ordinary cases, appeal to several at a 
time. If we may be allowed to illustrate a work of 
mercy by a work of atrocity, we would say that the 
Christian should in this case adopt the stratagem of 



100 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

Horatius in killing the three Curiatii ; he should 
contrive to divide them by wide intervals, and then 
overcome each one in single combat. 

Not only should such interviews be private, but 
what is said in them should be strictly confidential. 
If I blazon abroad what passed between us, it is a 
betrayal of the trust which the sinner placed in me 
when he opened his heart to me. This is the gene- 
ral rule. Special circumstances may justify a de- 
parture from it, as where the sinner has misreported 
our remarks, or where a dying penitent would make 
us the bearer of some message of consolation or warn- 
ing to his surviving friends. 

Some sinners will make the application for them- 
selves, of religious discourse in which they take no 
part, and which does not take the shape of expostu- 
lation. There are many cases on record of conver- 
sions which resulted from overhearing serious con- 
versations. 

A great many account themselves excused from 
dealing with the souls of their acquaintance on the 
plea that they are petulant, unreasonable, or out- 
rageous. They tell us that they would reject their 
testimony and assault them. They quote, in self-justi- 
fication, that proverbial direction of our Lord to his 
apostles : " Give not that which is holy unto the 
dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest 
they trample them under their feet, and turn again 
and rend you. 8 The apostles, to whom this precept 
was especially addressed, understood by it that they 
should not persist in preaching the gospel to such as 
should contemptuously reject it, and abuse them. 

8 Matthew vii. 6. 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 101 

But they were in no case to take for granted that any 
individual was unworthy to receive the divine mes- 
sage before making a trial of his disposition towards 
them. They were commanded to preach the Gospel 
to every human being ; whoever heard the glad 
tidings only to scorn it, and to maltreat the heralds, 
were at once to be forsaken by them. That this is 
the import of the general injunction is shown by the 
more specific directions which were given relative to 
the same subject. 9 "Whatever house or city would 
not receive them nor hear their teachings, they were 
to depart from it, shaking the dust off their feet as a 
testimony against their conduct. They are nowhere 
directed to pass by any individual, or family, or 
community, for fear of being ill-treated by it. Their 
Master had forewarned them that He sent them forth 
as sheep among wolves ; and the usage they com- 
monly met with but too literally verified his predic- 
tions. They had themselves strong presentiments of 
the persecutions that awaited them in the cities they 
were to enter. Nevertheless they considered it their 
duty to go into the very cities where, as the Holy 
Ghost had foretold, they were to be received with 
wanton and vindictive cruelty. In this view no one 
is warranted to abstain from religious conversation 
with a person from a suspicion that it will be repaid 
with neglect, or contempt, or effrontery. We must 
not prejudge others to be dogs or swine, but are to 
account them such only when their treatment of our- 
selves or of our communications, has proved them 
deserving of these appellations. It is nothing that 
they have already resented the well-meant attempts 
e Matthew x. 14 ; Mark vi. 11 ; Luke x. 10, 11. 



102 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

of others. This does not demonstrate that ours will be 
so received. Our duty is done only when their oppo- 
sition to us has rendered our further endeavors vain. 

The precept in question may refer not only to the 
characters to be addressed, but also to the subject- 
matter of our conversations with unbelievers in gen- 
eral. It is, in most cases, injudicious to talk with 
them of the joys of heaven, the pleasures of Chris- 
tian hope and faith, the doctrines of election, perse- 
verance, assurance, the Trinity, especially the mys- 
teries in which some Scripture truths are involved. 
Nor should we talk with them on what is peculiar to 
our religious experience or belief. We should dilate 
on the general subject only, noticing those features 
in experience which are common to most, if not all, 
spiritual persons, excepting always cases where they 
request us to give them a circumstantial account of 
our conversion. We shall sometimes be able to ar- 
rest the attention of a person that is insensible to his 
moral condition and wants, by talking in a strain 
like the following : " I was once in the same state 
that you are now, and though I then felt no concern 
for my soul, I am now convinced I had every reason 
to be alarmed, and that, had I always continued in 
such a condition, I must have been lost forever. I 
found this very insensibility to be most hateful and 
loathsome to God. I forsook the course of life which 
nurtured it, and, as I humbly hope, repented of my 
sins, and believed in Christ." To aid convictions of 
sin in a moralist or a self-righteous person, some 
such sentiments as the following will not be use- 
less : " I did not believe myself to be guilty before 
God till I seriously reviewed my life in the light 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 103 

of the divine law which reaches the thoughts, desires, 
and purposes, and in the light of the cross, which re- 
vealed to me the enormity of my sins, when I saw it 
was by a sacrifice of untold cost that their pardon 
was made possible. I now learned that those ac- 
tions, such as honesty, generosity, and temperance, 
upon which I secretly valued myself, were prompted 
by wrong motives. I discovered that all my boasted 
virtues were essentially defective in the motive that 
prompted them; for I did not love God — my heart 
was enmity against Him." When the man of the 
world respectfully asks us to relate our experience, 
we should do it with a mild and reverent spirit. Says 
the apostle Peter, " Be ready always to give an an- 
swer to every man that asketh you a reason of the 
hope that is in you, with meekness and fear." We 
should always make a clear, unadorned statement of 
our spiritual exercises, not glorying in our expe- 
rience, but in its Author ; not making it an apology 
for present delinquencies, but a rebuke for them ; not 
a test by which to try the experience of others, nor 
an occasion of vain-glorious triumph over others ; but 
to deepen the conviction of our own ingratitude and 
unworthiness. 

It may here be remarked, that, though the precept 
just quoted requires us to be ready to give a reason 
for our hope, it does not require us to answer every 
objection that a caviller could raise against Christian- 
ity. Objections may be brought by any one, who is 
in a humor to raise them, against doctrines that can 
be established by undeniable and overwhelming 
proofs. Objections neither prove nor disprove any- 
thing. 



104 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

There are those who think that every mention of 
personal piety in the hearing of unbelievers is to 
give the holy to dogs and to cast pearls before swine. 
They would confine so sacred a thing as religion to 
cloisters, grave-yards, dark and bolted cathedrals, 
chained Bibles, and clasped prayer-books. But let 
those who thus keep the Christian religion at a cere- 
monious distance say and do what they will, she 
never shines with a more celestial radiance than 
when she walks in the light of daily life. What if 
the pearl must not be cast before swine ? Shall it 
then be always locked in the casket and never adorn 
beauty. Divine grace and truth are the most come- 
ly ornaments that man ever wore, nor do they lose 
aught of their brilliance by their contact with human 
nature and with secular vocations. The diamond 
is despoiled of none of its brilliance by being set 
in gold. The foil and the bezel which enchase it, 
though they are not to be compared with it in mate- 
rial, yet they add to its elegance and its price. 

It is incumbent on us to seize every opportunity 
for arresting the course of sinners and leading them 
into the way of peace. In our daily intercourse with 
them, suitable occasions will offer when a pious mind 
can hardly avoid calling their thoughts to the sub- 
ject. Some incident will naturally start our theme, 
and furnish matter for its illustration and enforce- 
ment. Sickness, accidents, losses, favors bestowed 
or received, and numerous other occasions, will sug- 
gest an admonition, an entreaty or an exhortation. 
When the Kev. Peter Mill was once travelling on 
foot in Yorkshire, he came to a large pit whose 
brink was covered with drifted snow; at that mo- 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 105 

ruent, a young woman coming up warned him of 
his danger. After expressing his gratitude for her 
great kindness, he exhorted her to flee from the 
wrath to come, and expressed an ardent desire that 
as a return for the service she had rendered him, he 
might be the means of saving her soul from a more 
awful pit than that from which she had been instru- 
mental in saving his body. While he spoke with 
gratitude sparkling in his eyes, and his countenance 
expressing more than his tongue could declare, she 
began earnestly to cry ; " what must. I do to be 
saved ?" She soon after obtained peace to her 
troubled conscience through faith in her Saviour. 
When Dr. Payson was taking leave of an old lady 
who had entertained him under her roof, he said to 
her ; " Madam, you have treated me with much 
hospitality and kindness, for which I thank you sin- 
cerely ; but allow me to ask how do you treat my 
Master ? That is of infinitely greater consequence 
than how you treat me." He continued for a time 
in a strain of appropriate exhortation, and then pro- 
ceeded on his journey. This visit was sanctified to 
the conversion of the lady and her household, whence 
the work of grace spread in the neighborhood, and 
in a short time a church was gathered, and the ordi- 
nances of religion established. 1 In improving such 

10 How different the influence of such men of God from that of 
many of those who are popularly called " good pastors," i. e. them 
that spend most of their time in going to dinner and tea-parties, and 
in free-and-easy gossipping with their parishoners, avowing no higher 
purpose than that of adding to the number of pew-holders ; and never 
showing any solicitude for the eternal welfare of their flock, in their 
nominally pastoral visits. An amusing and truthful, though somewhat 
antique picture of one of this sort of men is seen in an old, anonymous 

E 



106 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

occasions we must beware of that perfunctory man- 
ner which seems to say that we would not have made 
a solemn remark had it not been forced upon us by 
the occurrence, or did not our Christian profession 
exact of us something of the kind. We should ever 
cherish an ardent compassion and solicitude which 
needs but the slightest incident to fan it into a flame. 
A word to be fitly spoken, must be spoken not only 
at a proper time but in a suitable spirit. The apple 
of gold should not be heedlessly tossed into the basket 
of silver. Still, after all, there are those who make 
it a pretext for the indefinite postponement of this 
duty that they cannot find a fit time, a desirable 
state of mind, or some happy conjuncture. They 
do well to consider that the sinner may find a thou- 
sand ways of ruining his soul while they are 

poem, " The Triumph of Infidelity," dated 1188 — by the highest liter- 
ary authorities now attributed to President D wight : 

" Each week, he paid his visitation dues ; 
Coax'd, jested, laugh'd ; rehears'd the private news ; 
Smok'd with each goody, thought her cheese excell'd ; 
Her pipe he lighted, and her baby held. 
Or plac'd in some great town, with lacquer'd shoes, 
Trim wig, and trimmer gown, and glistening hose, 
He bow'd, talk'd politics, learn'd manners mild ; 
Most meekly questioned, and most smoothly smil'd ; 
At rich men's jests laughed loud, their stories prais'd ; 
Their wives' new patterns gaz'd, and gaz'd, and gaz'd ; 
Most daintily on pamper'd turkies din'd ; 
Nor shrank with fasting, nor with study pin'd : 
Yet from their churches saw his brethren driven, 
Who thunder'd truth, and spoke the voice of heaven, 
Chill'd trembling guilt, in Satan's headlong path, 
Charm'd the feet back, and rous'd the ear of death. 
1 Let fools," he cried, " starve on, while prudent I 
Snug in my nest shall live, and snug shall die." 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 107 

waiting for one opportunity to attempt his conver- 
sion. 

Accost some sinners on the subject of personal re- 
ligion in the gentlest and most conciliating manner, 
and they will accuse you of impertinence or officious- 
ness. Thus do they regard a point of spurious po- 
liteness as of more consequence than the welfare of 
their souls, and prefer that we should consult their 
momentary ease at the forfeiture of their everlasting 
bliss. They most grievously undervalue the Chris- 
tian's endeavors. Had they ever suffered that pain 
with which he beholds them insulting his Father and 
his Saviour ; had they ever felt his disinterested 
solicitude which follows them day by day and wakes 
and weeps and prays for them at the midnight hour : 
had they been seized with his shudderings when he 
sees them climbing along the sides of the bottomless 
pit — had they ever experienced these things, they 
would soon transform a presumed impropriety into 
an act of the highest courtesy. When the palace of 
the king of Spain was on fire, a soldier knowing 
the king's sister was in her apartment, and in 
danger of perishing in the flames, at the risk of 
his life rushed in and brought her highness safe 
out in his arms ; but the Spanish etiquette was 
here woefully broken into. The loyal soldier was 
brought to trial, and as it was impossible to deny 
that he had entered her apartment, the judges con- 
demned him to die. The Spanish princess, however, 
condescended to pardon the soldier, and verj' be- 
nevolently saved his life ! Now, it is just in this 
way that your pretenders to gentility requite those 
who would " save them with fear, pulling them out 



108 INTEKVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

of the fire" — those who for the sake of their eternal 
welfare perform acts of self-devotement in the pres- 
ence of which the noblest services of mere good 
breeding shrink into utter meanness. Let no Chris- 
tian allow such a hollow-hearted delicacy ever to 
keep him from going to the rescue of a fellow im- 
mortal. 11 

In matters of life and death, in all other affairs of 
great and urgent concern, it becomes us to be so self- 
devoted, as if needs be to break through the cob- 
webs of ceremony, and forget the restraint of modish 
frigidity. When Esther went into the audience- 
chamber of the king to intercede in behalf of her en- 
dangered countrymen, her act, though it was a vio- 
lation of court etiquette, was not merely proper, it 
was more than heroic. When Mrs. Ann H. Judson 
went unceremoniously to the court of Ava to implore 
relief for her imprisoned husband, her very fearless- 
ness and neglect of forms were more eloquent than 
speech. And if these informal intercessions in be- 
half of mortal life call for our admiration, so do un- 
seasonable entreaties to those whose immortal spirits 
are on the point of passing beyond the reach of 
mercy and hope. The redemption of the soul is so 
unspeakably desirable, that when proprieties stand 
in the way, they should be disregarded as of no ac- 
count. Every reasonable being will pardon some- 
thing to the faith which makes the greatest affairs of 
time as less than nothing, when set over against the 
interests of eternity, to the benevolence that chooses 
to save rather than to please, and to the fear of being 
arraigned before the judgment Throne, clad in robes 

11 See " Principles of Courtesy," Part III, Chap, xiii., p. 265. 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 109 

that are discolored with the blood of murdered souls. 
The conscientious servant of Christ hears voices from 
every part of the universe, calling him to " be in- 
stant, in season, out of season, to reprove, rebuke, and 
exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine." 

We often hear wise and good men say, " Why, sirs, 
if we believed there is a hell, and loved the souls of 
men as we ought, we would run out into the streets and 
cry, Flee hell fire!" And there can be little doubt 
that if we did believe God, and love man in due de- 
gree, we would contrive a hundred methods of warn- 
ing the wicked, where we now devise one ; yet direct 
and urgent measures are not always expedient. A 
fresco painter seeing his fellow-artist walking back- 
wards, so absorbed in viewing his work as not to 
notice that there was but a step between him and 
the edge of the scaffold, instead of alarming the 
endangered artist, immediately dashed his own 
brush over the picture; whereupon he sprang for- 
ward in indignation, and so escaped the awful brink. 
Here is wisdom. Rather than tell some men they 
are in danger of endless misery, we should draw 
them away from the sides of the pit by dashing a 
false hope, by holding up some motive of encourage- 
ment, or by convincing them of their guiltiness ; or 
what is best of all, by setting forth the love and suf- 
ferings of Jesus Christ — we say some men, for there 
are many men, and perhaps they are the majority 
of men who are principally moved by their fears, 
and must look down into perdition before they can 
look into themselves, or unto Jesus. We should suf- 
fer no false compassion to flatter us that we are wiser 
than the Holy Spirit who says in Jude, " Of some 



110 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

have compassion, making a difference, and others 
save with fear." 

In discharging this duty, as far as can be, keep 
clear of controverted questions. Very many of the 
unconverted give no other attention to religion than 
what they bestow on some trifling, speculative, or 
mysterious point in theology. Rarely do we hear 
them inquiring into the nature and obligations of 
any Scripture precept. They have plenty of futile 
questions to propose and discuss till they see the 
danger that hangs over their souls ; then their single 
inquiry is : " What must we do to be saved?" We 
should therefore shun what they themselves would 
shun, did they see their peril as clearly as we 
do. The tendency of this kind of discussion, when 
carried on with this class of persons, is generally any- 
thing but salutary. They too often either begin or 
end in a want of seriousness, humility, or kindness. 
The counsel of Paul is: "Foolish and unlearned 
questions avoid, knowing that they do gender 
strifes." Unless these controversies are managed 
with unusual skill, the man of the world most com- 
monly comes out of them more opposed to the truth, 
or to its advocates, than when he entered them, and 
the Christian who enters these fields of controversy, 
even though it be in the company of the meek, is ex- 
posed to a fate which may be illustrated by that of 
the traveller who wanders over certain savannas of 
the west, where he finds no path or way-mark, and 
where he is exposed to dank vapors, which cause 
paleness, weakness, disease and death. When an 
essential doctrine is denied, the Christian may be ex- 
pected to defend it, and when it is not understood, to 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. Ill 

explain it so far as explanation is possible; but he is 
not called upon to encourage, or to undertake to 
satisfy an idle curiosity, or to bring to light what In- 
finite Wisdom has left in the dark. He should take 
pattern from his Master, as to the way to dispose of 
unprofitable and impertinent questions. When one 
put to him the question, "Lord, are there few that 
be saved?" He answered: " Strive to enter in at 
the strait gate ; for many, I say unto you, shall seek 
to enter in and shall not be able." Without directly 
replying to the inquiry, he makes it the occasion of 
exhorting all the bystanders to immediate and earnest 
effort to secure their own salvation. The Christian 
can, in this way, turn the thoughts of the careless into 
a higher channel, fasten conviction on their con- 
sciences, and bring them to feel the force of the truth — 
very often lost sight of — that the records of revelation 
were intended not to afford matter for speculation, but 
to teach rules of life ; not to envelope our immortality 
in darkness, but to bring it to light, and to illuminate 
a path thereto. It is not advisable, however, to 
waive the discussion of every question however fair, 
else we shall give occasion for the false imputation 
that our faith does not consist with reason. If we 
altogether reject reasoning in matters of religion, we 
shall provoke the unbeliever to take the opposite 
ground, and admit nothing else. The dogmatist is 
always the parent of the rationalist. 

In conducting an argument with sceptics and 
infidels, the Christian will derive more advantage 
from a thorough knowledge of the evidences of 
Christianity, than from that of the sacred books 
themselves. Without such knowledge, no Christian 



112 INTERVIEWS. WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

is qualified "to give an answer to those who ask 
him a reason for the hope that is in him." When 
unbelievers find the generality of professors ignor- 
ant of the evidences of their faith, it cannot be a 
matter of wonder that their discussions with such 
persons should serve only to confirm them in their 
unbelief. It is not enough that the Christian appeal 
to his inward experiences. Such an appeal, if it had 
any weight with the infidel, would, among other 
things, go to prove the reality of an extraordinary 
divine influence. It could not of itself establish the 
authenticity of the Scriptures. It will not do to put 
off the doubter with such reasons, though a regener- 
ate man may be satisfied with them. We are per- 
mitted, indeed, to excuse ourselves from bringing to 
the test of mere reason some things which our sacred 
writings contain ; not because they are contrary to 
reason, but because they are above reason. But 
Christian evidences afford a fair field for the exer- 
cise of our argumentative powers, and the infidel 
has a right to challenge us to meet him on this field, 
~ armed with every logical weapon. 

On the other hand we should never stake the 
truth of any scripture doctrine on the issue of its 
reasonableness, or consent to defend it on metaphys- 
ical grounds alone. We are allowed, to be sure, to 
meet unbelievers on their own ground in testing the 
reasonableness of a revealed truth, but it must always 
be done with the understanding that we do not con- 
sider it the proper ground. With those who do not 
admit the divine authority of the Scriptures, we 
must establish their authenticity from external and 
internal testimonies, and not, as many injudiciously do, 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 113 

abandon Scripture proofs when their divine origin is 
denied, and tamely submit to the terms of their adver- 
saries. With those who admit the divine authority 
of the Bible, an appeal should always be made "to 
the law and to the testimony," and on them and on 
them alone join issue. 

When the infidel whom we would persuade is a 
veteran in wickedness, and in many cases when he 
is outwardly respectable, we can make an appeal to 
his conscience, and with some hope of success ; inas- 
much as it is easier for him to disorder the reason- 
ing faculty to such a degree as to make it discordant 
with the sacred oracles, than it is for him to corrupt 
the moral sense so as to make it contradict them. 
How closely soever the understanding may be in 
league with the powers of darkness, conscience, the 
vicegerent of God in the soul, may yet in some 
degree maintain his allegiance to his Master. A 
voice like that of the demoniacs of old is still heard 
amid the ravings of a deranged mind, crying : 
" Thou art Christ, the son of God." Pew, very few, 
have been the sceptics and unbelievers who have 
been able entirely to silence this inward witness to 
revealed truth. It speaks at solemn intervals during 
the most dissolute life, and in the hour of death it 
cries out in despair and terror. When the plain 
practical duties of the gospel are enforced on the 
conscience of the infidel, he stands convinced both 
of his sinfulness and of the reality of the Christian 
system. These addresses are to be made in a kind 
and humble spirit, and not for the purpose of evad- 
ing the force of an argument which we are unable 
to answer, nor with the design of silencing an oppo- 



114 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

nent ; but with the simple intention to lead him to a 
cordial reception of the gospel. 

Let no professor think he has acquitted himself of 
all negligence on this score, when he has merely 
observed to the sinner that life is short, death cer- 
tain ; that he has occasion for gratitude to God for 
earthly blessings ; or formally spoken of the vanity 
of temporal good, and the importance of providing 
for our eternal felicity ; the loveliness of virtue, and 
the odiousness of vice. No — no — this is not enough. 
Let us bring him to feel his guiltiness and danger 
before God, and when he has come to realize that he 
is lost, keep him from every false trust, until he finds 
rest at the foot of the cross. 

During revivals it not unfrequently happens that 
zealous laymen are too ready to give their advice to 
awakened sinners, taking upon themselves a task 
which their minister ought to know how to perform 
better than any other person. They often give coun- 
sel which confuses the mind of the enquirer, if they 
do not lead him fatally astray. It is as if several 
physicians were to prescribe for the same patient. 

In seasons of religious apathy the opposite fault 
commonly prevails. Then professors are continually 
rolling the responsibility of the duty upon one an* 
other, so that it is allowed to rest upon none. They 
are so tenacious of points of precedence, that, while 
they are adjusting them, the soul to be saved has 
passed to its account. It is somewhere stated, that the 
fire-maker of the court of Philip the Third of Spain 
one day kindled so great a fire that the monarch, 
who was seated by the fireside, was nearly suffocated 
with heat. His dignity would not suffer him to rise 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 115 

from the chair; the domestics could not presume to 
enter the apartment, because it was against the eti- 
quette. At length the Marquis de Pota appeared, 
and the king ordered him to damp the fires ; but he 
excused himself, alleging that he was forbidden by 
the etiquette to perform such a function, for which 
the Duke d'Usseda ought to be called upon, as it was 
his business. The duke was gone out, the fire 
burned fiercer, and the king endured it rather than 
derogate from his dignity. It heated his blood to 
such a degree that an erysipelas of the head ap- 
peared the next day, which, succeeded by a violent 
fever, carried him off in the twenty-fourth year of 
his age. This conduct of the king's attendants finds 
a parallel in that of many a professor. Is he a pa- 
rent and begins to question whether he has neglected 
the religious instruction and admonition of his son ? 
He straightway decides that this is more properly 
the duty of his pastor, or his chaplain, or his wife, or 
the boys tutor ; while those to whom he tacitly re- 
signs the office, as tacitly shift the responsibility 
upon one another. Is he a new convert, beginning to 
feel that he ought to warn his former companions ? 
He soon lays his conscience to rest with the recollec- 
tion that the individual has a pious parent, other rel- 
ative, or pious companion, more intimate than him- 
self, who, it is to be presumed, will faithfully execute 
the task. If we except procrastination, there is no 
habit that is accessory to the loss of so many souls as 
this kind of deference. 

He who guides the anxious sinner must be careful 
not to forestall the work of the Holy Spirit, or, by 
officious kindness, transfer the sinner's reliance from 



116 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

the Spirit to the wisdom of man. When " the still 
small voice" is whispering to the inquiring soul, it 
becomes even a prophet to wrap his face in his man- 
tle, and listen in reverential silence. 

In endeavoring to find out a person's moral and 
religious state, let your questions be kind and re- 
spectful — not too familiar, yet not too formal. It 
is not necessary to know one's whole history at 
the outset: some facts will discover themselves as 
you go on. Ascertain what are his purposes with re- 
spect to religion. If he is undecided or dilatory, 
bring him, if possible, to form a resolution. If you 
cannot induce him to do this, you ought to show him 
that such a refusal forbids his cherishing any hope 
of salvation. 

Urge him to forsake everything that is unfavorable 
to serious self-inquiry, or to the operations of grace 
and truth upon his heart. Find out what particular 
sin keeps him from repentance, and insist on his 
abandoning it immediately. 

It is not enough that he convince you that he 
would like to be saved ; he should satisfy you that 
he chooses to be saved, and to use the means of his 
rescue. If he refuses the offer of eternal life, in that 
very act he chooses to go on in sin, and God regards 
this to be his decision. Every new neglect of the 
Gospel invitation is set down in the records of eter- 
nity, as a fresh rejection of Christ. Wishes and 
hopes are of less account than purposes and ac- 
tions. 

When the awakened sinner complains of doubt, 
fear, and difficulty, he should understand that his 
troubles arise from resisting the Holy Spirit. Re- 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 117 

mind him that he is a free agent, and that his own 
obstinacy and aversion of will is the great obstacle in 
the way of his reconciliation. 

When the sinner refuses to submit to the divine 
will on the plea of insensibility, you should bring 
him to look not at his feelings, but at his moral con- 
dition in the sight of God, and to perceive that his 
contentment or unconcern does not lessen his guilt 
and danger, nor his being on easy terms with him- 
self cool God's anger towards him. 

The inquirer should not at first occupy himself 
with the question whether he is a child of God, 
but whether he has a disposition to forsake every- 
thing in his- heart or life which is opposed to the 
divine law, and he should also be exhorted rather 
to the immediate performance of duty than to direct 
efforts to obtain an assurance of pardon. Most sin- 
ners are looking for the joy and peace which are the 
results of submissions, before they submit. They de- 
sire an evidence that Christ has received them be- 
fore they have given themselves to Him ; at least 
they are unwilling to repent and believe, and then 
wait for tokens of their acceptance. 

It is possible to speak to the sinner with such an 
air and tone as if you spoke by virtue of your own 
authority, and as if he had offended you rather than 
the Almighty. Yet, when the demands of God's law 
are pressed upon his conscience by another, and the 
sinner is troubled, we must not take sides with him 
by apologizing for his sins, or by opening to him the 
arms of a blind sympathy and fondness. 

Do not burden the mind with too much talk, nor 
distract it with too great a variety at once. Direct 



118 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 



and discriminating addresses are to be preferred to 
general and rambling remarks. Hence, as we be- 
fore said, too many persons should not converse by 
turns with the same individual, 

Take care that when a serious impression has been 
made, it be not marred or effaced by after-thoughts. 
Cast not about you for forcible and memorable last 
words. Rather look to the effect of what you are 
saying, and then you will easily decide when to have 
done. 

Inquirers are prone to make a merit of prayer, re- 
pentance, reading the scriptures, going to church, 
and the like ; or this one places undue reliance on 
man for guidance and relief, while that one in his 
distress cannot rest anywhere, but like the unclean 
spirit, wanders through dry places, seeking rest and 
finding none, at the same time, perhaps, presuming 
that God is pleased with his restlessness. Such 
should be convinced that the Saviour is the only 
refuge and hope. Another flatters himself that he is 
in the way of obtaining a reconciliation, so long as 
he is attentive to the means of grace. Perhaps his 
friends have advised him to " wait at the pool of the 
ordinances. 55 Now, though the means of grace are 
not to be spoken against, those inquirers who use 
them contentedly, and trust in waiting and seeking, 
will never obtain what they are professedly in quest 
of; in fact, they are not much concerned whether 
they do or not. They have taken this method of 
amusing their souls, and soothing their convictions 
of sin, and excusing themselves from immediate re- 
pentance. The sacred scriptures warrant no pre- 
paratory delays. Their language is, " Behold now is 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 119 

the accepted time ; behold now is the day of salva- 
tion." 

Some injudicious advisers endeavor to administer 
comfort to the inquirer before he is prepared for it. 
They heal the hurt slightly by healing it too soon. 
It is dangerous to set ourselves to persuade him that 
it is well with him, and that he has reason to be of 
good cheer, before he has found the Redeemer. If 
we proceed with such an one as if he were already 
regenerated, we run the risk of leading him to mis- 
take fleeting emotions for renewed affections. The 
Divine Spirit and the Oracles of God will, in suffi- 
cient time, work assurance and quietness. It is one 
thing, however, to establish him in a blind confi- 
dence of his renewal, and quite another to strengthen 
his trust and hope in the Lord Christ. We must, of 
course, repeat the promises to the desponding. And 
when a sinner complains that his moral probation is 
at an end, that the Holy Spirit has forsaken him, or 
that he has committed the unpardonable sin, then it 
is high time to convince him that he misinterprets 
his convictions ; then he ought to know that if he 
were deserted by the Holy Spirit, or smitten with 
judicial blindness, he would in all likelihood be free 
from anxiety with respect to his salvation. 

It is especially desirable that the awakened sinner 
be allowed time for secret communion with God and 
his own heart. We must not at this stage of his ex- 
perience keep his mind so fully occupied with pub- 
lic and social worship, or with hearing counsels and 
exhortations, as to leave him no leisure for private 
devotion. 

In religious interviews we often have to encounter, 



120 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 

at the outset, objections which betray bigotry, pre- 
judice, or a superficial knowledge of religion. When 
we are met with absurd or malicious charges against 
some doctrine, practice, denomination, or ourselves, 
it will be wise, in general, to waive, in a respectful 
and good-humored manner, the consideration of all 
objections, or yield to whatever force they may have, 
and attempt no vindication of our character, or our 
particular opinions, but proceed at once with a direct 
application to the objector's conscience. Sinners 
often endeavor to keep clear of a searching exhorta- 
tion, by tempting the exhorter to enter the lists with 
them on some speculative question. Perhaps they 
make their objections and difficulties an apology for 
a continuance in sin, or resort to them in self-de- 
fence, or to make a display of their intellect. When 
any one attacks a doctrine on the ground of its un- 
reasonableness, at the same time admitting that it is 
taught by the sacred scriptures, we do well to show 
him that he mistakes the parties involved in the con- 
troversy ; that he is impeaching divine wisdom and 
goodness. We may adopt the language of the Apos- 
tle: "Nay, but oh man, who art thou that repliest 
against God." 

We should recommend to the inquiring sinner, not 
merely God the Father, but especially "God in 
Christ." The human mind, especially the unrenewed 
mind, can form no very intelligible or attractive view 
of the unembodied Jehovah ; but it is more easily 
brought into sympathy with the Lord Jesus Christ — 
the incarnate God. When the Divine Being took 
upon himself human nature, he came nearer the sin- 
ner than he could otherwise have been brought by 



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 121 

symbols and descriptions. Our blessed Master lias 
anticipated a work which would have been too hard 
for any of his servants to perform. By appearing as 
Immanuel, in a two-fold nature, by becoming " God 
with us," he has, in some sense, returned from his 
banishment, and re-enthroning Himself among his 
revolted subjects, he offers a free and full pardon to 
all who choose to return to loyalty. We are required 
not to ascend into heaven to bring God down to earth, 
but now that he has already come among us, to bring 
sinners to his feet. Those who talk merely of one 
uncreated Being inhabiting eternity, cannot bring 
Him nearer the sinner than the third heaven. What- 
ever divinity they may bring him, in imagination, to 
enthrone in heaven^ they leave him literally " with- 
out God in the world." 

Nor should we fail to remind the sinner, that he 
lives in the dispensation of the Holy Spirit, and that 
he is resisting not only the calls of his own con- 
science, but the convictions wrought in his mind by 
this Divine Person. When he pleads inability to 
feel or act as he ought, let us tell him that the Holy 
Spirit is freely offered to them that ask His aid. " If 
ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto 
your children, how much more shall your heavenly 
Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him." 
From the evangelical doctrine of the Holy Spirit, 
may be drawn motives at once the most admonitory 
and the most encouraging — admonitory to him who 
grieves, or resists, or blasphemes the Spirit — encour- 
aging to him who is convinced of his native weak- 
ness, and is yielding to doubt, fear, or despair. We 
should also speak of the connection of His offices 

F 



122 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 



with the work of atonement. To talk of the Saviour 
without making mention of the regenerating Spirit, 
were to leave the heavy-laden pilgrim in sight of the 
Cross, without the help of the invisible Hand which 
can unloose the burden from his shoulders. 



CHAPTEE VI. 



RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS WITH PREJUDICED PERSONS. 

It was a remarkable feature in the primitive 
churches, 'that their polity, forms of worship, and 
all their operations, were so simple as to create the 
fewest possible prejudices against them, and to over- 
come many that already existed. All observation 
teaches that the minds of men are more easily in- 
flamed against some trifling peculiarities of an insti- 
tution which is newly introduced, — peculiarities that 
are opposed to the existing order of things, — than 
against peculiarities of greater consequence, which 
common minds are less competent judges of, and 
which are not at war with their habits and customs. 
In this view we see the wisdom of the Divine Found- 
er of the church, in instituting no other ministry, 
ordinances, and government, than were absolutely 
necessary to her existence and enlargement in the 
first and every succeeding age. The absence of 
rituals, liturgies, and all appendages of art, left her 
at liberty to adapt herself in non-essentials to the 
customs of the people among whom she should be 
introduced. Had all her externals been at first un- 
alterably fixed, they could not have been admitted 
along with her into the various nations of the earth 



124 RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS 

without the greatest opposition ; or if not opposition, 
without a resort to artifice. And it deserves to be 
deeply graven on our minds, that all unalterable 
forms and ceremonials that are innovations on apos- 
tolic simplicity, are not only calculated to foster 
hypocrisy in those who practise them, but also 
double-dealing in those who would make proselytes 
to them. 

But what connection have these remarks with the 
subject under consideration ? Unless we are greatly 
mistaken, they show the importance of believing and 
practising, as essential parts of our religion, .only what 
is taught by the Bible, in order to prevent or overcome 
those prejudices which would hinder the hearty recep- 
tion of the gospel. He who is wedded to a particular 
ritual, impresses the commonalty with the notion that 
he believes these to be necessary parts of the Chris- 
tian religion. Being first stumbled at these extrane- 
ous rites, they are prepared to stumble again at the 
all-important doctrines which are connected with, 
and consequently confounded with them. The same 
holds true of those who advocate strange, fanciful, 
or superstitious tenets respecting any of the myste- 
ries of the gospel. The Christian, therefore, who 
is intent upon the salvation of sinners, should, in 
his conversations with them, keep aloof from his 
own peculiar views, his speculative questions in 
theology, and all his opinions respecting religion, 
that are not clearly warranted by the word of God. 
Such a course will keep him clear of a great deal 
of fruitless contention about inferior matters : it will 
also save him from incurring the guilt of allowing 
his own speculations to take the precedency of sav- 



WITH PREJUDICED PERSONS. 125 

ing knowledge, and of amusing with trifles those 
who ought to be striving to secure the grace of im- 
mortality. 

These precautions should be observed by those 
who would be well prepared to meet the hostile 
feelings that are arrayed against true religion. And 
our success in managing them will depend quite as 
much on our known character and creed, as on our 
wisdom and address. Some suppose that preju- 
dices cannot be overcome by mere direct argument. 
Swift observes, " reasoning will never make a man 
correct an ill opinion, which by reasoning he never 
acquired." This opinion of Swift is not quite con- 
clusive. Would it be fair to argue in what seems 
an equivalent fashion : " Medicine cannot expel a 
disease that was never contracted by the use of 
medicine " ? Men may, and frequently do, relin- 
quish prejudices, formed and cherished because they 
never reasoned, and relinquished them as soon as 
they began to do so. On the other hand, we are not 
to suppose, because a prejudice has been formed by 
education, habit, interest, or affection, and admitted 
without examination, that it is therefore erroneous or 
pernicious. It may safely be averred that the preju- 
dices of the generality in Christian countries are on 
the side of the gospel ; a circumstance which gives 
the advocates of evangelical principles a great ad- 
vantage. But though the prepossessions of those 
with whom we converse are perhaps in favor of the 
Christian religion as a general system, they may 
nevertheless be opposed to the specific doctrine we 
wish to advance, if not to every distinguishing prin- 
ciple of our religion, when it is separately offered to 



126 



RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS 



their consideration. With a view to reconcile these 
and other prejudiced persons to evangelical doc- 
trines and duties, it may be proper to adopt one or 
more of the following expedients : 

It is in some cases advisable to leave undisturbed 
prejudices that are hurtful, for the purpose of more 
easily inculcating those truths which will eventually 
remove them. Our Lord and his apostles found the 
world strongly intrenched in errors and abuses, and 
instead of directly assaulting their muniments, they 
wisely drew them out of them, as the hosts of Israel 
by a retreat led the defenders of Gibeah without the 
walls, and then set the city on fire. When we meet 
with a person who belongs to a heretical sect, we 
should not stigmatize him with reproachful epithets, 
nor assail his whole creed, but, passing by his pecu- 
liar opinions, meet him as a Christian on common 
ground, and then bring him to admit that which, if 
admitted, will disarm, if not destroy, his prejudices. 
When our opponent venerates some great human au- 
thority, we should not, in all cases, stay to call it in 
question, but respectfully taking leave of characters 
and leaders, we should conduct him to the divine 
testimonies, and convince him that his positions are 
unsound : this done, his revered master will be for- 
saken of course. When the person expresses strong 
predilections for particular phrases or formulas, 
which we cannot prevail on him to disuse, we 
should endeavor to settle him in just notions of the 
doctrine which he misnames. We should choose to 
leave men in quiet possession of their party names 
and shibboleths, rather than expose them to the ship- 
wreck of their best hopes, while they are driven from 



WITH PREJUDICED PERSONS. 127 

the truth in the obstinate defence of a word. The 
mass of mankind will sooner resign things than 
names ; and some may be found in almost every 
sect or party, who, though they were long ago con- 
vinced of the heterodoxy of some part of its creed, 
choose still to cleave to its fellowship and its forms. 

We may sometimes bring people to abandon a 
prejudice by engaging their thoughts with a virtue 
which is the antagonist of the vice which first warped 
the judgment, or by leading them from a trifling sub- 
ject to one of importance, as from a speculative to a 
practical question : above all, from a question which 
genders strife to one which pacifies and liberalizes 
the mind. Once lured out of the sterile pass for 
which they are contending, up to some eminence 
whence they can behold broad and fruitful fields, 
they will blush for their folly in wasting their noble 
energies on mere futilities. An effort of the kind is 
the more laudable inasmuch as it aims at goodness 
of heart and devotedness of life, and not merely at 
soundness of faith. 

A person can be led slowly, gently, and circuit- 
ously, to receive those truths which, if they were 
directly pressed upon his mind, he would sturdily 
stand out against. It were judicious, therefore, to 
unfold the truth to one strongly set against it by 
slow degrees, observing its effects upon him, dropping 
the subject before it begins to call out opposition, 
and adverting to the subject at intervals, when the 
person is in a calm and yielding mood. 

When a person of winning wisdom perceives that 
the one to be conciliated dislikes every kind of oppo- 
sition, and that his delusion proceeds more from 



128 



RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS 



ignorance than obstinacy, he will avoid open dispu- 
tation, and set himself to explain and recommend the 
doctrines to which he would gain proselytes. He 
will attend to the counsel Paul gave to Timothy, when 
he directed him not to strive, but in meekness to in- 
struct those that oppose themselves. By using the 
expository and didactic, rather than the controversial 
tone, he will prevent, or at least allay, irritated feel- 
ings — cause those who no longer see themselves at- 
tacked, to desist from opposition, and, by enlighten- 
ing their minds, bring them to yield up what, for 
lack of knowledge, they before maintained. Yet he 
will not instruct in a dictatorial or upbraiding man- 
ner, but humbly and submissively, not pretending to 
superior abilities, but showing a deference for the 
judgment of others. In stating facts and quoting, 
he will presume not so much to inform his opponent 
as to remind him of things he is already supposed to 
know. He will pass over in silence, or touch lightly 
on the objections made to his own faith, and when 
forced to say anything on the doctrines of his oppo- 
nent, he will not always formally confute his argu- 
ments^ but will chiefly reason against the system 
those arguments were framed to support ; for he 
knows that his opponent will allow him to attack his 
faith as a mass in preference to his method of de- 
fending it. In this way he will, perhaps, convince 
his erring friend without exposing him to the morti- 
fication of feeling himself to be confuted ; and in- 
stead of laboring to show him how far he is from the 
truth, he will furnish him with the facts and argu- 
ments by the help of which he will be able to arrive 
at the truth for himself. 



WITH PREJUDICED PERSONS. 



129 



It is another useful rule, to avail ourselves of a 
prejudice or erroneous opinion of another, in order 
to convince him of a truth by reasoning with him on 
his own principles. It was in this method that 
Christ and his apostles argued with the Jews by 
citing their own sacred books, and that Paul espe- 
cially, reasoned with the Greeks by quoting their 
own poet, and reminding them of their habitual wor- 
ship of divinities. It is one of Lord Bacon's maxims 
that " Nature can be controlled only by submitting 
to her laws ;" 14 and this is true, not only of the ma- 
terial world in general, but of human nature in par- 
ticular. Accordingly, we may use for illustration 
popular opinions, which, though they are wholly or 
in part without foundation in reason, commend us to 
the hearing of common minds ; Christ did so when 
he spoke of the unclean spirit going out of a man 
and wandering in dry places. We may also use 
their own venerated names to contradict them ; and 
when they oppose us with quotations, silence them, 
if needs be, by quoting their own authorities more 
fully and fairly than they have done. We should 
not always make use of such arguments as are of 
most weight with ourselves, but such as will be most 
convincing to the persons we address, careful, how- 
ever, ever to use those only which are sound. 

When' any one harbors a prejudice against our re- 
ligion which comes of a dislike for the behavior of 
some of its professors, we shall best dislodge it by 
carefully avoiding the behavior of which he com- 
plains, and especially by studying to win his affec- 
tion and respect by uniform kindness, and when 

*2 " Naturae non imperatur nisi parendo." — Nov. Org. 

F* 



130 EELIGIOUS CONVEKSATIONS 



there is occasion for it, by acts of generosity and 
self-devotion ; taking care to inspire him with a 
gratitude which is not chilled by a sense of depend- 
ence upon or of obligation to us. We do well to 
postpone all applications to his sense of duty, till we 
have gained his confidence and regard, when, per- 
haps, the warmth of friendship may have already 
melted his hardness not only towards the doctrines of 
the Gospel, but also towards its professors. 

When a prejudice stands directly in the way of 
the furtherance of the truth, we must neither over- 
look nor humor it. There are prepossessions which 
•defy all the milder arts of reasoning to manage them. 
By whatever avenue we approach them, they come 
forth to meet us. Prejudices of this class are chiefly 
those which have their source in the corruption and 
perversity of the heart, and are fostered by earthly 
interests. Nothing short of a powerful appeal to the 
understanding and the conscience can put them to 
flight. The biased person must be brought to dis- 
tinguish between the suggestions of a corrupt heart 
and the dictates of conscience, the calls of present 
interest and the claims of moral obligation, the au- 
thority of human opinion and the command of God. 
And besides being brought to make a difference be- 
tween these opposite principles, he should be per- 
suaded to forswear the sway of the former and sub- 
mit to the dominion of the latter. We must not, 
however, charge him with prejudice in plain terms. 
He will hardly be made to believe himself capable 
of a weakness that is so dishonorable to his mind : 
and if he were convinced of it he would be reluctant 
to confess it. He will not be likely to part with it 



WITH PREJUDICED PERSONS. 



131 



the sooner for our having cast it in his teeth. Little 
is ever gained by making bare assertions, however 
true, that are not believed by the hearers, or of ac- 
cusing a person of sins before his conscience is pre- 
pared to upbraid him with them. 

And it is worth remarking upon this whole sub- 
ject, that these prudential rules will be of little use 
to those who do not bring to the task a sweet and 
benignant temper. An exacting, dogmatical, or 
scornful carriage towards the erring, is apt to drive 
them only the more deeply into darkness and cor- 
ruption ; whereas the expression of a kind and com- 
placent spirit, though it should not be directed by 
common prudence, will draw them out of the toils of 
Satan sooner than great prudence if it be not soft* 
ened and cheered by such a spirit. 13 

** See " Principles of Courtesy," — last Chapter. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



DISCUSSIONS. 



Dr. Johnson being asked by a friend whether there 
had been any conversation at a party from which 
he had just come, replied, " No, sir ; we had talk 
enough but no conversation ; there was nothing dis- 
cussed" It was his opinion that the agitation of a 
subject with a view to elicit truth is alone worthy 
the name of conversation. Present usage, however, 
pays little deference to the great moralist and lexi- 
cographer, and throws the charitable mantle of 
the word over even the senseless gabble of triflers 
and dullards ; nay, the most hideous monsters that 
ever human lips gave birth to. Still, it must be 
granted that discussion, in its strict sense, is one of 
the noblest and most useful parts of conversation. 
The utterances of this Grand Khan of literature, and, 
for thirty years colloquial dictator in the literary cir- 
cles of London, as reported by his numerous friends, 
are mainly of this nature. And he would have set 
us a good pattern in this kind, had his reason always 
kept the ascendency of his prejudices ; had he oftener 
taken the side of truth and piety ; and had he habitu- 
ally observed that gentleness of speech which he so 
well understood and knew how to prize in others. 



DISCUSSIONS. 



133 



There are many important questions which a so- 
ciable group might be well employed in debating. 
Yet the usual mode of conducting private discussions 
is not calculated to afford a great deal of improve- 
ment. And the fault lies less in the questions them- 
selves than in the manner of treating them. The 
bulk of people fancy that instinct teaches them the 
best method of reasoning, and they enter the lists 
presuming that nature has armed them at all points, 
and given them skill sufficient to meet all comers. 
This delusion, which self-partiality seems to maintain, 
has kept not a few men from giving due attention to 
the art of reasoning in the conversazione. Trusting 
to the native merits of the questions discussed, they 
have not enough considered the best mode of man- 
aging them ; or engrossing their attention with the 
unguarded points of the foe, they have overlooked 
their own. Many a controversy, both in public and 
private, has been needlessly prolonged by the faults 
of the disputants themselves. They would fain be- 
lieve that to have truth on their side, and to support 
it by sound arguments, are enough to secure a speedy 
triumph. But they too often deceive themselves. 
The fact is, that truth is full as much beholden to the 
disposition and deportment of her advocates as to 
the soundness of their arguments. Those who go 
forth into the field of controversy invoking the aid 
of the furies, provoke their antagonists to call on the 
same goddesses, while the graces stand aloof to weep 
over the defeat of the cause to which they could have 
given the victory. 

In colloquial discussions, and in all others indeed, 
our success or failure will depend not a little on our 



134 



DISCUSSIONS. 



character and life. We cannot hope to convert to 
our principles those who inwardly despise our prac- 
tice ; on the contrary, a consistent Christian life will 
give a weight to our arguments which nothing else can. 

Besides taking care to form a good general char- 
acter, we should endeavor to enter the lists open to 
conviction. This will greatly aid us in the search 
after truth, and prepare our opponents to receive it 
when found. They will ever carry a shield as broad 
as our own; if we show by our tone and air that 
we do not expect to hear from them anything new, 
unanswerable, or convincing, we shall only raise 
the same spirit in them. 

We should also conduct our part of the discussion 
with perfect candor and fairness. For though a 
resort to quibbles and tricks will now and then give 
us a momentary advantage, it generally results in 
a permanent injury to ourselves and to our cause. 
The world is slow to believe that truth can be at all 
related to mean artifice. We must likewise drive 
from our hearts bigotry and party spirit, being ever 
more zealous for gospel truth than for our articles of 
faith, or for our particular tenets. Whoever calmly 
watches the motions of his own spirit, will often be 
mortified to find that his earnestness in the defence 
of any point proceeds almost as much from a fond- 
ness for his own opinions as from a zeal for the 
truth. We never lose anything by conceding to 
our opponent the merit of sincerity and ability ; at 
any rate we should argue with him on the supposi- 
tion that he is not deficient in either. Nor should 
we be quick to discern any immaterial defects in 
our opponent or his argument. Since those who 



DISCUSSIONS. 



135 



enter the lists with us are ever supposed to be our 
equals, if we succeed in lessening their reputation, 
we also, in an equal degree, diminish our own. 

Let us not, at the same time, affect that large 
charity which overlooks essential defects in religious 
opinions, and discovers a peculiar excellence in each 
sect which throws its errors quite into the shade. 
For one, nothing could induce me to adore those pic- 
tures of the Virgin Mary which represent her shel- 
tering beneath her enormous cloak, popes, harlots, 
monks, nuns, thieves, murderers, and what not. Nor 
could I ever highly value the favors of that liberality 
which can enclose the motley crowd in her large 
embrace, and whose eyes are so dim as to mistake 
all for her favorites. Such sentiments are common- 
ly held by those who are equally indifferent to all 
religions. If our opponent is a man of sense, he 
must respect us for having a definite belief, and for 
a sincere and intelligent adherence to it. We shall 
forfeit his respect by excusing ourselves from the 
discussion of a subject which he considers important, 
on the plea that it is unessential or insignificant. He 
will be apt to understand such an excuse as an inti- 
mation that we can at once perceive the trivialness 
of the subject on which he is expending so much 
fruitless effort. To recoil from the question with 
affected disdain, is sure to make him suspect either 
our sincerity or our judgment. 

We ought surely to cultivate the charity that 
thinketh no evil, but we should beware of boasting 
of our charity to our opponent in religious debate. 
Paul says that this virtue "vaunteth not itself." 
When our charity has been put to the test, then it 



136 



DISCUSSIONS. 



will best appear to what degree we are swayed by 
its power. How often do we hear language like 
the following : " For my part I think all denomina- 
tions should love one another, overlook one another's 
faults, and respect one another's conscientious differ- 
ences. I love all Christians — but I cannot bear 
those who style their own denomination the church, 
and those who exclude from the Lord's Supper all 
who do not agree with them in faith and practice. 
Neither do I like those who are forever contending 
for their sectarian tenets. I hate those who claim 
for their own sect the most scriptural creed." These 
generous persons do not stay to think that there can 
be no pretension more extravagant than that of 
having reached the perfection of charity — that coy 
grace which the most advanced Christian confesses 
that he has not yet overtaken. They also fail to 
reflect that in holding up to detestation the unchari- 
tableness of others, they do but the more proclaim 
their own. And if, as not often happens, these 
praisers of charity can be consistent with themselves 
while they are in company, they are sure, in private, 
to show that there is as much of the gall of bitter- 
ness in their composition, as there before appeared 
to be of the milk of human kindness. They advo- 
cate the cause of charity that they may be thought 
to be blessed with a large share of this virtue, when 
in truth they are in beggerly want of it, and their 
conduct calls for the protection of its cloak; but 
this is a delicate subject to handle, and we leave it, 
lest we betray this vice in the very attempt to de- 
scribe it. 

After inquiring whether we ourselves have proper 



DISCUSSIONS. 



137 



qualifications for the discussion of a question, we 
should consider the character of our opponent or 
respondent. We should not consent to enter into a 
debate with one who is ignorant of the question, or 
an unskilful reasoner, preoccupied or volatile — who 
is very inferior to us in ability or attainments ; for 
as we must begin with the advantage, our victory 
might be thought to be owing more to the weakness 
of our adversary than the merits of our cause ; and 
should we be worsted by such a person, it would be 
discreditable either to the truth or ourselves, per- 
haps to both — who is proud, overbearing, or fre- 
quently interrupts us, or tries to silence us by clamor 
or laughter — who usually begins by boasting of his 
familiarity with the whole question — who talks to 
show to bystanders his knowledge, his argumenta- 
tive skill, or his volubility — who is positive, tena- 
cious of his own opinions, or never retires before the 
most powerful onsets of argument — who has a hasty 
or an irritable temper, is easily insulted, or is accus- 
tomed to put wrong constructions on the remarks of 
another — who is accustomed to quibble, whiffle, or 
wander from the question — who uses sophistry when 
sound reasoning fails, and resorts to anything for 
self-defence — who aims to be witty, and deals in 
jibes, jokes, and puns — who betrays an irreverence 
for the sacred scriptures, allows little or no weight 
to their testimony, and garbles and wrests them — 
who, when silenced, conceals his defeat by accusing 
us of trifling with sacred things, shocking his moral 
sensibilities, at the same time shrugging his shoul- 
ders, crossing himself, and stopping his ears against 
what he calls blasphemies — who is unwilling to al- 



138 



DISCUSSIONS. 



low another to finish his remarks, but endeavors to 
engross the time himself, and listens with impatience 
to our arguments, yet whenever we are unwitting- 
ly drawn into a debate with any one of the character 
just mentioned, we should retire from it in good 
humor, without airs of disdain, or words of reproach. 
" But," it will be said, " if I must not debate with 
persons of this description, I cannot debate with 
any ; for where is the arguer who has not one or 
more of the faults you mention?" In reply, we 
admit that it is not in itself morally wrong to enter 
the lists with such people ; often quite the contrary : 
remember, however, that if you betray any of these 
faults, you have no right to complain when your 
opponent faces about and leaves the field without 
asking quarter. 

It is perhaps worth while here to inquire whether 
women may properly take part in conversational 
discussions. Some women uniformily excuse them- 
selves from arguing, and some men studiously keep 
aloof from controversial topics in talking with them. 
It appears, however, that our Lord considered it 
becoming to discuss at least religious questions with 
them. His interviews with the woman of Syrophe- 
necia and with the Samaritaness, recognize their 
right to take part in an argument. He would not, 
it is certain, encourage a contentious spirit in them 
any more than in man. The deference and subjec- 
tion to their husbands which the apostles require 
of them, do not accord with a controversial tone. 
Nothing is more unseemly than the conduct of those 
women who enter the noisy arena of political and 
theological combat, presenting a spectacle not unlike 



D ISCUSSIONS. 



139 



that which was anciently witnessed in the Island of 
Mona, where women fought in defence of Druidical 
rites, by the side of the priests. Should Christianity 
number no more defenders than idolatry had on 
that occasion, it would be heroism for them to show 
an equal zeal in its behalf : but as our faith is likely 
to have many pugnacious defenders for a good while 
to come, it is their part to seek, by a calm and con- 
ciliatory behavior, to assauge polemical fierceness 
and tumult. This they may do, and often have 
done, by acting as mediators in angry debates, by 
kindly intimating the best manner of unravelling 
knotty questions, and by setting a pattern of the 
spirit in which a rude opponent ought to be treat- 
ed. In moral gifts for argumentation they are man- 
ifestly superior to men* Their peculiar patience 
and delicate regard for the feelings of others, often 
greatly assist in the settlement of questions which 
take a strong hold on human passions and interests. 
They are, equally with men, obligated to cultivate 
the reasoning powers, and it is their duty occasion- 
ally to take part in discussions. Still they have a 
higher office in relation to the truth than that of 
mere debaters, incessantly harping on some vexed 
point, and regularly disputing every assertion that 
one happens to make. It is theirs to allow their 
greater kindness, their holier conscience, and their 
nicer intuition of the becoming, to speak in the ear 
of the misguided wrangler, and to aid in the dis- 
posal of questions in which these feelings are often 
more efficient than argument. It is theirs to utter 
divine oracles, which are. meditated in the seques- 
tered retreats of home, remote from the blinding 



140 



DISCUSSIONS. 



passions and loud contentions of the outer world. 
It was when Belshazzar and his nobles, and his as- 
trologers, and his soothsayers were all confounded 
and dismayed by the writing on the wall, that the 
queen came to the relief of their despair, and made 
honorable mention of Daniel as one who could inter- 
pret the appalling words. Even the dream of Pi- 
late's wife, as she was slumbering in a retired apart- 
ment of the palace, dictated more of reason and 
more of justice than were to be found in the deliber- 
ations of Pilate, Annas, Caiaphas, the chief priests, 
Pharisees, lawyers, and the undistinguished mob. 

The gentle sex do, and ought to, despise those 
men who disown their reasoning faculties, when- 
ever they talk with them. Let not gentlemen think 
that ladies are soft in thought because they are 
soft in behavior and tone. It is no compliment 
to them to affect their effeminacy. Let gentlemen 
consider that the natural strength and roughness of 
their sex ought to appear in their thoughts, style, 
and voice. Tour pretty fop is ever telling the 
ladies that he cannot differ from them; it will go 
hard but he will be of their opinion. If he ever 
dissents from an assertion, it is contrary to one to 
which he gave his assent a little while ago. He re- 
grets that he cannot possibly contradict himself, other- 
wise he would never be so rude as to except in the 
slightest degree to madam's proposition. By-the-bye, 
he needs but to talk two minutes longer to retract 
his first opinion, and agree with madam most cor- 
dially and absolutely. He cringes and bows at 
every word she speaks ; he would not be positive, 
not even about his personal identity, if any lady 



DISCUSSIONS. 



141 



should deny it. Like Launce, he would say, " I am 
the dog — no, the dog is myself ; and I am the dog 
— oh, the dog is me, and I am myself — ay, so, so." 

With respect to the subjects of discussion, four im- 
portant cautions are to be heeded : 

1. Never discuss trivial and insignificant ques- 
tions. It is, to be sure, not always easy to decide 
what are such, since many questions which, at first 
thought, appear paltry, are found upon a closer ex- 
amination to be very important. We are permitted, 
in colloquy, to treat questions less grave than would 
become a public controversy. 

2. Do not often make principal doctrines and pre- 
cepts, and admitted duties, matters of dispute. The 
habit leads us first to question, and then to disbelieve 
the weightiest testimony, and to a systematic disobe- 
dience of known commandments. It brings on scep- 
ticism, if indeed it be not an indication that it has 
already gained some footing in the mind. " He that 
is too busy in the foundations of a house," says Sir 
Philip Sidney, " may pull down the whole building 
about his ears." 

3. Avoid speculative questions, that is, such as if 
decided would serve no practical purpose. Disputes 
concerning the Millenium, and others of the kind, 
seldom administer to our improvement. 

4. Let not incomprehensible and mysterious truths 
be made subjects of inquiry. There are some parts 
of divine revelation which, though evidently not con- 
trary to reason, are out of its province. Controver- 
sies as to the mode of the Divine existence in the 
Trinity, and as to the reconciliation of the purposes 



142 



discussions. 



of Grod with the free agency of man, may be referred 
to this class. 

By the agitation of such questions little has been 
or can be gained for our temper, our information, or 
for the furtherance of Christian truth. The most per- 
nicious questions are those which belong to the first 
class and to the last — the first, because as the history 
of all controversies attests, contentions are bitter in 
proportion to their unimportance — the last, because it 
is impossible to tell where those controversies will 
end, which begin without proof, just as those wars 
are apt to be long which have no definite object ; for 
it is altogether uncertain what will purchase a peace. 

Discussers should begin by ascertaining whether 
they can agree on some fundamental principle, or on 
any conditions as to the kind of testimony to be ad- 
mitted; as whether the sacred scriptures, or the 
writings of the fathers, or decrees of councils, or tra- 
dition, are to be allowed as proof. 

When they have agreed to take some common 
ground, let them inquire how near they can approach 
each other. Let them lessen the distance between 
them by mutual concession, ascertaining the points 
of agreement rather than of difference. They should 
not suppose, because they differ on one point, they 
must needs differ upon all. Those who are ignorant 
of one another's opinions, generally suppose them- 
selves to disagree far more widely than they do in 
reality. 

As another preliminary, the meaning to be at- 
tached to the words and phrases used should be set- 
tled between the opponent and respondent. Doubt- 
ful or ambiguous words or terms should be defined 



DISCUSSIONS. 



143 



or rejected. In many cases, where the meaning of 
the question is determined and understood, little, if 
anything, will remain to be done. Whereas those 
who hastily enter upon the discussion of a question 
which they do not understand, each perhaps inwardly 
blessing his own superior acumen, and emulous of 
victory, after having exhausted breath and argument 
conclude to go back to ascertain the meaning of the 
question, and find, to their inexpressible mortifica- 
tion, that they have been engaged in a mere logoma- 
chy — not a moral, but a verbal contest, that some 
ambiguous word, viewed from different points, was 
the sole cause of so much strife. 

Besides settling the signification of words and 
phrases, the exact point of inquiry should be fixed. 
It should be mutually understood whether the ques- 
tion is to be discussed in a limited or a general sense ; 
and when the question is qualified, there should be 
a strict and honorable adherence to it. A neglect to 
define positions occasions confusion and ill-will. 
Some who leave the original ground and retreat to a 
different question, resort to this method of showing 
their inability to defend their post and of begging a 
truce. 

He who takes a side which he at length finds not 
to be tenable, should frankly confess his inability to 
maintain it. Let him not think it an exposure of his 
own weakness ; it will be received as the indication 
both of his candor and of his discrimination. If he 
still persists in arguing a question which the com- 
pany deem settled, he exposes himself to the imputa- 
tion either of disingenuousness or of obtuseness. He 
who can cheerfully and unreservedly own himself 



DISCUSSIONS. 



confuted, has won a more glorious victory than his 
confuter. 

There is nothing helps to confirm men in errors 
like the fear that the renunciation of them will be 
received with upbraidings by their own party, and 
with exultation by the opposite party. "Were the erring 
kindly and respectfully welcomed back to truth, they 
would oftener return. Where there is a whole party 
ready to break out into a contemptuous laugh at one's 
recantation, he is strongly tempted to withhold it. 
We should conquer without seeming to do so, and ac- 
count it enough that the opponent feels, without con- 
fessing, his defeat ; but rather divert him from it by 
passing to another subject even though it should be 
less important. When Augustus, king of Poland, 
was brought into the tent of Charles XII., of Sweden, 
who had just deprived him of his crown, Charles 
turned the conversation wholly on his jack-boots, 
telling Augustus that he had not laid them aside for 
six years, except when he went to bed. Let this in- 
cident teach the victorious debater how to save his 
vanquished opponent from needless mortification. 

Carneades is said to have resolved never to defend 
what he could not prove, nor attack what he could 
not overthrow — a wise resolution, but more applica- 
ble to public than private discussions. In a circle 
of friends where we ought to make it our aim to ex- 
amine and correct our opinions, we are at liberty to 
put forth and defend a principle which we have but 
superficially examined, and on which we wish the 
views of others, that we may have their help in set- 
tling our minds in just conclusions. 

Almost any other species of trifling is more allow- 



DISCUSSIONS. 



145 



able than that of discussing trite and useless ques- 
tions. As we have already remarked, there is in 
conversation a strong inducement to commit this 
folly, inasmuch as it is understood that many sub- 
jects may be handled here which would not be dig- 
nified enough for other occasions, and that the mind 
may here abandon itself to its lighter movements. 
Nevertheless, a wise man will take care how he 
warmly espouses what it would be as ignominious 
to contend for as to lose. Grecian fable tells us that 
when Hercules went down into the lower world, the 
shade of Medusa confronted him : he was about to 
draw his sword upon her, when Mercury reminded 
him that she was a mere phantom ; whereupon he 
returned his sword to its scabbard. Even Hercules 
had no strength to waste on a shadow. 

But when a detrimental opinion, though absurd 
and trivial in itself, is likely to gain currency from 
the earnestness and pretension of its advocates, it 
then becomes our duty to set it in a proper light. 
The champion of infidelity and the vilifier of vir- 
tue may, when his own character is considered, be 
too contemptible to deserve notice ; but when he is 
evidently corrupting the minds of the ignorant and 
unsuspecting, he ought to be withstood and rebuked. 
In silencing such persons we must proceed according 
to the lights and shades of circumstances. Solomon 
points out both the Scylla and the Charybdis of which 
he would have us steer clear. On the one hand we 
have, " Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be 
wise in his own conceit on the other, " Answer not a 
fool according to his folly, lest thou be like unto him." 
The first direction is applicable to cases where the 

G 



146 



DISCUSSIONS 



pride or vanity of an irreligious person calls aloud 
for rebuke. If lie is impudent and rude, we are to 
treat him with severity ; if positive, we must be 
equally positive, and not be tender of the feelings of 
one who is destitute of the sensibilities of the human 
kind. By a satirical imitation of his own language, 
we are to show him to himself as in a mirror; by 
copying his air, tone, or mode of reasoning, we are to 
make him ashamed for his corruption and shallow- 
ness. By the second direction we are to understand 
that it is not our duty to correct an ungodly or an 
immoral person in his own language when it is pro- 
fane or obscene, or to reply at all when his speech or 
behavior is of a description to render him undeserv- 
ing of the intercourse of his species, or when a reply 
would be a self-degradation or an infringement of 
Christian gravity. How far we may go in reply is 
shown in the well-known story which is told about 
the salutations that passed between Dr. Barrow and 
Lord Rochester. 

To make this nice point more clear, we remark, 
that the two precepts are to be reconciled thus : with- 
in limits, meet a man on his own ground ; beyond, 
stir not a foot to follow him. These limits are to be 
found— -jvrst, in the topic, and secondly, in the tone 
and state of mind. They may be illustrated by our 
Lord's dealing with cavillers of his own nation. He 
gave them the miracles they needed — miracles vari- 
ous, wondrous and numerous ; but he refused the 
miracles, sneeringly and captiously asked. He had 
given them John the Baptist to mourn and had sent 
apostles to pipe. They heeded neither. He would 
not, therefore, fiddle to scepticism and profligacy, 



DISCUSSIONS. 



147 



and hence lie wrought no miracles when brought be- 
fore Herod and Pilate. 

There is in the world many a group of persons con- 
fidently contending about matters of which all are 
wofully ignorant, darkening counsel with words 
without knowledge, or speaking evil of things they 
understand not. The least-informed persons pro- 
nounce on the subject with "a frightful degree of 
certainty," as Fontenelle would phrase it, and each 
is talkative on great affairs in pretty exact propor- 
tion to his ignorance of them. Let a man of infor- 
mation enter the crowd, and his presence soon brings 
them to a pause. "I have heard," says Jeremy 
Taylor, " that all the noise and pratings of the pool, 
the croaking of frogs and toads, is hushed and ap- 
peased upon the instant of bringing upon them the 
light of a candle or torch." Jefferson says, that in 
the Provincial Congress neither "Washington nor 
Franklin spoke until the debate was well-nigh ended ; 
then but for ten minutes, and only on the main points. 
It was John Somers 5 brief speech at the trial of the 
seven bishops, that fixed his high character as a 
lawyer. Howbeit, these are better parliamentary 
than conversational examples. Whoever, in collo- 
quial debates, is addicted to enlightening the ignor- 
ance of the talkers, or unasked, to taking upon himself 
to decide every question, instead of rising to emi- 
nence in esteem of the company, may some day find 
himself sprawling on the floor, and hear the bystanders 
whom he asks to call in the police, quoting to him : 

" There are a sort of men whose visages 
Do cream and mantle like a standing pool, 
And do a willful stillness entertain, 



148 



DISCUSSIONS. 



With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion 
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit ; 
As who would say, * I am Sir Oracle, 
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark/ " 

A man of prudence does not hastily determine the 
merits of a question, or speak on it in a dogmatic 
tone. By keeping close a half-formed opinion, he is 
at liberty, on further deliberation, to alter it before a 
final and avowed decision. He does not crave the 
responsibility of propagating immature notions, nor 
the honor of retracting them. 

Let your debates be marked by good humor and 
calmness. If you do not allow your mind to be 
ruffled when you are overcome in a discussion, you 
will keep yourself from being in all respects a van- 
quished man. It is a too common practice for de- 
baters to aim at throwing each other off their guard, 
by provoking their resentment. This is Cain-like. 
He who would give his arguments weight with his 
opponents, and bring them over to his own principles, 
will endeavor to conciliate their good-will, and pre- 
serve, as far as he can, the serenity of their minds ; 
for he knows that if their anger is roused, they are 
incapable of weighing his arguments. To attain this 
end he should be their friend, and persuade them to 
embrace his views, not for his benefit but for their 
own. When will the generality of men learn that 
there is a difference between a moral and a ' martial 
combat — that in the former, men meet as friends, in 
the latter, as enemies — that the proper object of the 
one is to discover truth, and that of the other to re- 
dress wrongs. And when will they learn that the 



DISCUSSIONS. 



149 



weapons that prevail in the one are powerless in the 
other ? 

Seldom allude to denominations, sects, and theo- 
logical schools, and their founders, but confine your 
citations to doctrines and principles. Speak not of 
men but of opinions, not of names but of things. 
"We are aware that to follow this rule is often diffi- 
cult, and sometimes inexpedient. Could debaters, 
like the mythical nymph Echo, be changed into a 
mere voice, and dispute unseen, they might easily 
keep aloof from personalities. But as passion is often 
mistaken for reason, and the larger share of what 
pass for principles, are nothing other than preju- 
dices, it is very often hard to keep characters and 
creeds apart. It should be our care not to use the 
phrases or the technical terms which characterize 
sects or denominations, and not to charge with heresy 
or impiety all who do not choose to employ the same 
phraseology. When we are driven to mention names, 
we do well to cite those of the individuals who first 
broached the doctrines in question. This will not 
often offend our opponents, for the generality of men 
are very ready to disown those to whom they are in- 
debted for their creed. If we impugn a denomina- 
tion, our opponent may appeal to its numbers, learn- 
ing, or piety, and we shall provoke his brethren to 
come to his support, then the colloquy will become 
like a " faction fight" in an Irish fair, where all the 
men of the family name must take up the bludgeon. 

The most of us are exceedingly tenacious of those 
opinions, agreeably to which we have long shaped 
our conduct. In taking ground against us, our op- 
ponents have need of great delicacy and prudence, 



150 



DISSUSSIONS. 



for we consider every attempt to confute us but an 
attempt to prove that our conduct has been hurtful 
or unwise ; in a word, we are apt to mistake an argu- 
ment for a rebuke. Hence, in persuading us to 
change our views, they must not brand our former 
tenets with vice or folly. After they have won us 
over to their side, we shall be able to examine the 
tendency of our former doctrines more impartially. 

When a person is supporting one article of a creed, 
we are to beware of accusing him of receiving all 
the other articles of it. Perhaps he prefers it in 
general to any other, and at the same time indig- 
nantly disclaims certain articles, or at least certain 
constructions of them. And when a person broaches 
a sceptical sentiment, we must not, without due 
cause, suspect we have before us a monster of the 
French or German schools of atheism, who cordially 
accepts all the blasphemies of those schools. Men 
should not be held responsible for the consequences of 
their tenets, when they disavow those consequences. 
But in reasoning, we have a right to show how one 
tenet hangs by and draws on another. 

After our best endeavors to bring others over to 
our side, we must not wonder how they can differ 
from us still. We ought to reflect that our own 
views are as widely at variance with those we once 
held, as theirs now are with our present opinions, 
and that future years may greatly modify even 
these. 

An over-earnest defence has harmed many a 
worthy cause. The common world has thought it 
must have been a weak point that called for the 
presence of so strong a guard. Those who are most 



DISCUSSIONS. 



151 



solidly grounded in their own principles, may often 
quietly re-examine them, but they very seldom chal- 
lenge a discussion of them ; while those whose faith 
is not settled on a rock, are in the habit of calling 
out to every person to come and behold the solidity 
of their foundation. Still, however, it is one thing to 
be often called to defend our principles, and a very 
different thing to be continually challenging others 
to attack them. 

The vital doctrines of the gospel afford the least 
matter for contention because they are simple and 
practical. Like air and water they are as transparent 
as they are useful. It is when the practical truths of 
revelation — and all are such — are turned into specu- 
lations, and treated metaphysically, that they become 
subjects of unending strife. Every body remembers 
Milton's description of the lost spirits engaged in 
theological disputation. 

" Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, 
In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high 
Of providence, foreknowledge, will and fate, 
Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, 
And found no end, in wandering mazes lost." 

The poet thought, with great truth, that these 
questions, as the disobedient understand them, will 
never, even in the light of eternity, be satisfactorily 
settled. The truths of scripture were revealed to 
men not to metaphysicians. They are therein set 
forth not as they are abstractly, but as all fallen mor- 
tals can and ought to view them — practically. These 
truths have to do with their character, duties, hopes, 
fears, temporal and eternal welfare. Scarcely any 



152 



DISCUSSIONS. 



mystery is so obscure that all the faithful, how wide- 
ly soever they divide on their theoretical opinions 
respecting it, could not agree as to the lessons and 
duties it should suggest. When will outcast man 
believe that the tree of forbidden knowledge is 
kept by a guard of cherubim, and no longer blind 
his curious eyes by too near a view of their flashing 
weapons, but be content to catch distant glimpses of 
the inaccessible fruit, and to believe in Him, whose 
incarnation is a mystery which shall solve all others, 
and move the celestial guard to sheathe their swords, 
and open again the gates of Eden. 

Paltry questions sometimes rise into importance 
in the eyes of the unthinking, from the earnestness 
with which they are opposed. The din of conten- 
tion which was at first heard only among the learned 
few, at length reaches the ears of the unlettered 
many, who swell it into the voice of the stormy At- 
lantic. Either oppose unimportant questions with 
moderation, or pass them in silence. 

In contesting a point about which your opponent 
shows great feeling, suppress your ardor, if you 
would enlist bystanders on your side. Your cool 
manner will command their feelings, and seeing 
you laboring to suppress your emotions, and giving 
a plain and unexaggerated view of the subject, they 
will render you double for all the feeling you have 
withheld, and fully supply in their own minds the 
deficiences of your representation. 

Generously concede to your opponent all the vir- 
tues, talents, and attainments he can claim. Dr. 
Johnson was opposed to treating an opponent with 
respect, alleging that as the generality of men can- 



DISCUSSIONS. 



153 



not judge of reasoning, if you allow your opponent 
a respectable character, they will think that though 
you differ from him, you may still be in the wrong. 
With great deference to so high an authority, and 
to the practice of multitudes, we must venture 
humbly to except against such a course. Besides 
being disingenuous, it is impolitic to traduce your 
antagonist, more especially when you would reclaim 
him to truth. When men thus begin to defame 
their opponents, it is clear they do not mean to 
make them proselytes ; for they cannot be proud to 
have such characters in their ranks, at least if they 
are as bad as they represent them. Our Lord grant- 
ed to the Scribe that he was not far from the king- 
dom of God, and Paul admitted to the Athenians 
that they were very religious, and that they ignor- 
antly worshipped the true God. By an unsparing 
onslaught you will only rally the friends of your 
opponent to the vindication of his character, and 
believing your charges to be unreasonable, they 
will be easily led to suspect the soundness of your 
arguments. Candid admissions will prepossess all 
minds in your favor, provided always that they are 
not extravagant ; if they are, they will be received 
as satires rather than as compliments. Let not your 
lamentations over his errors be overwrought. An 
affectation of compassion will be resented as dis- 
guised contempt. 

Where no important principle is involved in the 
name by which a sect styles itself, in talking with a 
member of it we should call him by that which is 
least offensive to himself : with a Catholic, say Cath- 
olic rather than Papist or Romanist ; with a Church- 

o* 



154 



DISCUSSIONS. 



man, say Churchman rather than Episcopalian ; with 
a Baptist, say Baptist instead of Antipsedo-Baptist 
or Anabaptist; with a Unitarian, Unitarian rather 
than Socinian ; at the same time where fidelity to 
Gospel truth exacts it, we may add that we do so in 
compliance with general usage, though we cannot 
but think it an unwarrantable concession. Never- 
theless we should allow others to call us or our sect 
by whatever name they please, however improper, 
unintelligible, or reproachful. We shall best concil- 
iate them by meekly and -cheerfully allowing them 
to choose their own epithets. 

The expression of a mere personal preference, 
taste, or feeling, must seldom be contradicted. But 
standards of taste in the fine arts are legitimate mat- 
ters of discussion, as Sir Joshua Reynolds, La Bruyere, 
and others maintain. La Bruyere says, " There is a 
certain point of perfection in art ; he that perceives 
it and likes it, has a right taste ; he that perceives it 
not, and likes what is on either side of it, has a 
vicious one : so that there is a good and a bad taste, 
and some reason for disputing about them." But 
matters of sentiment and taste cannot be discussed 
profitably, except by cultivated minds w r hose judg- 
ments concerning aesthetics and the fine arts have 
been formed by much study and reflection. Minds 
of this description can reason as logically on this as 
on any other moral question. With them the old 
maxim, De gustibus non disputandum does not hold. 
But those whose religious connections are the result 
of sentimentality, will still cleave to them when their 
reason is convinced of their error. He who attempts 
to reform them by setting forth the unreasonableness 



DISCUSSIONS. 



155 



of their preferences, goes about to perform a great 
undertaking. A person that is charmed with the 
ceremonies and pageantries of the Church of Rome, 
and beholds in them all that is beautiful, grand, and 
awful, cannot be persuaded to embrace the doctrine 
and ordinances of the evangelical churches by dis- 
courses on the simplicity and dignity of their wor- 
ship. His present choice, so different from that to 
which we would bring him, declares an incapacity to 
relish the qualities we commend. The taste that 
prefers the painted diamond or the essenced rose to 
these objects in their native purity, is too far gone in 
degeneracy to be restored without the help of Divine 
grace.. The only way to reason with a person of this 
sort is to set aside the question of taste altogether, 
and bring him to discuss the comparative merits of 
the two systems as decided by the documents of in- 
spiration. But we must not count too much upon 
argument ; nothing short of the transformation of his 
soul by the Holy Spirit will wholly correct his taste. 

The same course is to be pursued in the manage- 
ment of those who choose their church, their creed, 
and their preacher, just as they do their physician 
and their costume — because they are in fashion — be- 
cause those whom they look up to as arbiters of ele- 
gance adopt and patronize them. The religion of too 
many is like that of M. de Grammont, a Marshal of 
France. Having gone, by order of the king, to visit 
the minister Morus, who was dangerously ill, the king 
asked him, on his return, how he found him. The 
marshal answered : " Sire, I saw him die like a good 
Huguenot. What I think most to be regretted is, 
that he died in a religion which is now as unfashion- 



156 



DISCUSSIONS. 



able as a peaked hat." Now any one must perceive 
how vain would have been an attempt to persuade 
this courtier to embrace the religion of the Hugue- 
nots on the ground that it was more worthy of royal 
patronage than any other, or on the ground that it 
deserved to be in good fashion. 

Young infidels are not always to be argued with ; 
there is danger of flattering their vanity and self-im- 
portance by answering them with grave and labored 
arguments. If they are our own children or wards, 
we had better disabuse them of their pestilent doc- 
trines by the use of the rod ; for as infidelity is a vice 
in itself and the parent of many more, seasonable 
chastisement will teach them in what light they 
ought to view it. A young man who had dipped into 
many authors of an infidel turn, and had acquired 
just enough knowledge to make him a conceited 
atheist, began to make proselytes in his father's 
family. His father, who had borne with his dan- 
gerous and schismatical opinions some time, heard 
him one day remark that Carlo, his setting-dog, was 
as immortal as any of the family, and that for his 
part he expected to die like a dog. With this the 
old man started up and cried out ; " Then, sir, you 
shall live like one," and taking his cane in hand 
cudgelled him out of his system and brought him to 
more serious reading. Coleridge tells a good anec- 
dote of himself very similar to the above. " I had," 
says he " one just flogging. When I was about thir- 
teen I went to a shoemaker and begged him to take 
me as his apprentice. He being an honest man took 
me to Bowyer, who got into a great rage, knocked 
me down, and even pushed Crispin rudely out of the 



DISCUSSIONS. 



157 



room. Bowyer asked me why I had made myself 
such a fool. To which I answered, that I had a 
great desire to be a shoemaker, and that I hated the 
thought of being a clergyman. ' Why so V said he. 
' Because, to tell you the truth, sir, I am an infidel V 
For this, without more ado, Bowyer flogged me, — 
wisely as I think, — soundly as I know. Any whining 
or sermonizing would have gratified my vanity and 
confirmed me in my absurdity ; as it was, I was 
laughed at, and got heartily ashamed of my folly." 
We do by no means recommend this method with 
adult infidels, nor with all young ones. We must 
answer every one that requires a reason, while we 
must treat with compassionate silence those who are 
incapable of receiving a rational answer. In gene- 
ral, men are sooner won by reasoning than by ridi- 
cule, and by gentleness than by severity. Man is 
like the herb basilique, which, as the Italians say, if 
you handle gently, it will yield a sweet smell ; but 
if you rub and tread upon it, will engender serpents. 

Much more freedom is allowable in a conversational 
than in a public or printed discussion. The former is 
to the latter what a tournament is to a mortal combat. 
The knights sally forth to break a lance as a trial of 
skill and strength. The object is not the triumph of 
a just cause, but the glory of those who enter the lists. 
Yet this remark holds good only when minor ques- 
tions are handled. In discussing subjects that are 
really important, we should always aim at truth. He 
who lets off his arrows up into the air for mere self-dis- 
play, will some day fall transfixed by them. If he will 
not find them a mark they will make him their mark. 
Let him not fancy they will, like those which Virgil 



158 



DISCUSSIONS. 



sings of, take fire in the mid heavens and burn up. 
He who takes what he knows to be the wrong side of 
a moral or religious question, or talks sportingly or 
aimlessly on the right side, will at length suffer, if 
not perish, by the recoil of his own arguments. 

An old man should not browbeat his juniors, as if 
it were impossible for a young man to be a sound 
reasoner. He should ask no concessions by virtue 
of his seniority ; if he does, it is a virtual admission 
either of the weakness of his faculties or of his argu- 
ments. To take sides against gray hairs is not such 
unpardonable insolence, so we only treat them with 
due honor in our manner of speech. 

We must not offer to pursue an argument which 
another started, unless he has fairly given it up, and 
given us leave to do so. Even then, we must not take 
his place with an air of superiority, as if we were the 
only persons in the world who are able to do the sub- 
ject justice. Some like to anticipate our reasonings 
— bystanders, who make us their mouth-piece when it 
serves their turn, and when we have a remark on the 
end of our tongue they take it out of our mouths, 
saying, " That was just what I was going to say — 
you mean so-and-so." " Exactly what I would have 
said, had I your c gift of the gab.' " 

When another shows by his replies that he has 
mistaken your meaning, do not say to him, " You 
do not understand me ;" but rather, " I do not make 
myself understood." When you fail to gain a clear 
perception of another's idea, do not tax him with 
obscurity, but by a question draw out an explanation, 
or modestly request him to assist your want of pene- 
tration by saying, " Pardon me, I did not understand." 



DISCUSSIONS. 



159 



Do not raise objections abruptly, or deny asser- 
tions with rudeness, but when you dissent from any 
view, say that some would raise such an objection to 
it. Why common civility should not be shown to an 
opponent we have always been at a loss to conceive. 
In conversational debates its observance is of the 
last importance. If the controversy is carried on 
through the press, the parties may be severe without 
detriment to their persons or to those about them. 
But a truce to your noisy altercations in the social 
circle, which begin by shaking the finger and end 
by shaking the fist, to the terror of a bevy of ladies. 

When debaters are roiled and boisterous, it re- 
quires some address to pacify them aright. It is 
difficult to interpose directly, as intentional inter- 
ruption is generally considered a rudeness. A little 
pleasantry addressed to bystanders will sometimes 
quell the strife. If we attempt to part persons that 
have fallen together by the ears, the danger is that 
they will leave each other and fly at ourselves, there 
being nothing more easy than to make anger, when 
once it is fairly roused, to fasten upon an unoffend- 
ing object. We can occasionally put a period to con- 
tention by exciting laughter, or by making ourselves 
subjects of merriment. When Juno was once quar- 
relling with Jupiter, the crippled and awkward Vul- 
can, by turning cup-bearer, so greatly moved their 
mirth, that they forgot their strife, and passed the 
rest of the day in festivity. 

When you are answering an argument, quote ac- 
curately the propositions you design to examine ; 
give them their full force, and, if possible, strength- 
en them by additional reasons of your own. When 



160 



DISCUSSIONS. 



you refute objections state them strongly, allow them 
more than their just weight, and mention other ob- 
jections not alluded to by your opponent. So you 
will preserve a character for honesty at least, and 
for ability also, if after giving them the vantage- 
ground you briefly and effectively refute them. 

Be not one of those who tremble at every objec- 
tion raised against their opinions, and are unwilling 
to make any concessions to their opponents. Be 
rather of that easy temper which can perceive the 
force or originality of an objection, and can pleas- 
antly suggest to another, objections of greater weight 
than any he has yet urged, and even help him de- 
fend himself against you, or vanquish you. Debate 
in the spirit of Socrates. In the Gorgias of Plato, he 
says, " I am one who would gladly be refuted if I 
should say anything not true, and would gladly re- 
fute another should he say anything not true ; but 
would no less gladly be refuted than refute. For 
I deem it a greater advantage to be freed from the 
greatest of evils than to free another ; and nothing, 
I conceive, is so great an evil, as a false opinion on 
matters of moral concernment." 

When the proposition you wish to establish is 
likely to meet with a cool reception from the circle, 
or has strong passions to encounter, you do well to 
give your proof first, which will be examined with 
more candor if you withhold the conclusion till it is 
established. If you first shock the company with 
your naked opinion, they will not listen calmly to 
the reasons by which you support it. 

Endeavor to retire with a good grace from a 
dispute which you do not wish to prolong. Do not 



DISCUSSIONS. 



161 



break off with the i«mark that you think the ques- 
tion must be submitted to abler hands before it can 
be properly determined ; or that much remains to 
be said on both sides. It would be better to say "I 
am hardly able to convince you, so let us agree to 
differ, and talk of something else;" or, "You and 
I have now ascertained upon what points of the 
question we differ, let us, if you please, inquire upon 
what points we can agree." George Fox, the found- 
er of the Society of Friends, relates a very good re- 
mark Oliver Cromwell made to him, at the close of 
an interview he had with him at "Whitehall. Crom- 
well caught him by the hand and, with tears in his 
eyes, said : " Come again to my house, for if thou 
and I were but an hour a day together, we should be 
nearer to each other." 

Some of the foregoing maxims will, no doubt, be 
thought undeserving of regard by those who have 
not learned from repeated experiments, that even 
though the truth be supported by undeniable proofs, 
and recommended by the highest authority, it cannot 
often be fixed in the mind as the main-spring of ac- 
tion, unless it is assisted by the arts of persuasion. 
The Son of God came down from his heavenly abode 
invested with every amiable virtue, bringing the 
most joyful tidings, and teaching the most beneficent 
doctrines; yet he did not always make a direct ap- 
peal to the hearts of men, nor exhibit at once the 
whole scheme of salvation and the nature of his king- 
dom ; but unfolded them by degrees, as the preju- 
dices of his disciples, and their progress in know- 
ledge and piety, would allow. Endowed, though he 
was, with Divine power, and though he had at his 



162 



DISCUSSIONS. 



command all the angelic host^ lie did not compel 
assent to his teachings, but used prudence and dex- 
terity to pacify and win over a rebellious world. 
And the Sun of Eighteousness stiSfl continues to send 
abroad his light over the earth, e His fittest em- 
blem, whose rays, astronomers pll us, come down 
through our atmosphere in curved lines. 



CHAPTEK IX. 



EEPEOOF. 

The timely rebuke seems to be regarded by the 
Mosaic law as an expression of brotherly love. The 
command is ; " Thou shalt not hate thy brother in 
thine heart ; thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neigh- 
bor, and not suffer sin upon him." "Were the per- 
formance of this office, made as it ought to be, a 
criterion of fraternal affection, few, it is to be feared, 
could abide the test. An intelligent charity would 
direct us to give a brother a momentary pain, which 
issues in spiritual healing, rather than to allow a 
culpable fear of offending to prevent his rescue from 
guilt, sorrow, and the verge of perdition. He must 
be hard-hearted enough who can knowingly leave his 
brother to be admonished of his sin, only by its 
deadly consequences — refusing to draw aside the 
curtain which shuts the light out of his soul, leaves 
it at last to glare in upon it through the ruins of his 
character. 

For another reason may reproof be the dictate of 
brotherly kindness. We have, perhaps, suspected 
another of misdeeds which he has not committed, or 
have misinterpreted his motives, or have judged of 
his conduct on the testimony of perjured witnesses. 



164 



REPROOF. 



In such cases, our censure will give him an oppor- 
tunity to remove misconceptions that are afloat in 
our minds. " Admonish a friend," says the son of 
Sirach, " it may be he hath not done it ; and if he 
have done it, that he do it no more ; admonish a 
friend for many times it is a slander, and believe not 
every tale." Were this precept faithfully kept, the 
tribe of whisperers that seek in a thousand dark and 
winding ways to destroy the confidence good men 
repose in one another, would be greatly thinned, if 
not exterminated. 

He who discharges this obligation to his brother, 
should first institute a self-inquisition, lest the person 
rebuked be tempted to retaliate by saying, " Thou 
fool, pluck the beam out of thine own eye." David 
says, "Let the righteous reprove me;" and Paul 
advises that the spiritual be employed to restore a 
brother that has been overtaken in a fault. But as 
those who are "righteous," and "spiritual," are 
likely to be unconscious of their virtues, it is implied 
that such are to be selected by the church for the 
work of leading back wanderers. The occasions are 
more frequent, where one is called upon to admonish 
his brother in private, and for offences known to few 
or none except himself. In such a case, however 
unworthy he may deem himself to perform the ser- 
vice, such unworthiness, whether real or imaginary, 
cannot excuse him from its execution. In order to 
prepare the heart of his brother for the reprehension 
he is about to administer, it is in some cases expe- 
dient to begin by making a confession of his own 
faults. By this means he will secure himself before- 
hand, from any charge that might otherwise be 



REPROOF. 



165 



brought against him, and at the same time provoke 
the person to be reproved to exercise the same frank- 
ness and humility in confessing his sins. 

The rebuker should take care that not only his 
own life be without reproach, but that his relatives 
be not allowed to go unreproved for the very olfences 
which he rebukes in his friends and acquaintances. 
A story is told of a venerable archdeacon, who, hav- 
ing heard of his clergyman's hunting propensities, 
sent for him to lecture him on the subject. Soundly 
did he administer his rebuke, long was he about it, 
while his poor victim spoke not a word in his own 
defence. Suddenly the archdeacon, perceiving a 
smile on the culprit's countenance, said : " Ah ! I see 
my admonition has little effect upon you : alas ! you 
too much resemble Gallio, who cared not for these 
things." Now was the climax, and the expected 
penitent, drawing himself up to his full height, and 
fixing a wickedly merry eye on his reverend elder, 
replied: "Mr. Archdeacon, I have heard you with 
patience : you may have rebuked me rightly, and I 
may be a Gallio ; but this I have to say, that if I am 
a Gallio, your own son Richard is a Tally-ho ; and 
so, Mr. Archdeacon, I wish you a very good morn- 
ing." The son Richard was a noted clerical fox- 
hunter. 

According to the Apostolic precept, the reprover 
should restore the faulty " in the spirit of meekness, 
considering himself lest he also be tempted." He 
who takes upon himself to reprehend another, seems 
to claim a superiority to the offender as to moral or 
intellectual qualities, assuming that he is himself free 
from the sin, or that he can discern a blemish which 



166 



REPROOF. 



his brother was so careless as to overlook. In order 
accordingly, to prevent resentment, he must not re- 
prove in a tone of accusation or reproach, but as sen- 
sible of his own infirmities and of his liability to 
commit the fault he would correct in another. And 
if the reproved person takes umbrage and casts forth 
abusive language or unguarded accusations against 
him, he ought to bear the ill-treatment with an un- 
complaining spirit ; and to avoid rousing stonger op- 
position, or fixing him in obstinacy, he should not 
attempt a self-vindication, but rather confess the 
charge, if just, or pass it over unnoticed. He may, 
if the case requires it, go further, and confess faults 
that had escaped the notice or memory of the ac- 
cuser. 

We must take care that another be not made worse 
by our attempts to make him better. When, instead 
of salving the sore, we only irritate it, inflaming his 
passions rather than soothing them, we are making 
him but the more a transgressor. We are tempting 
him to add to the sin in question, hatred, revenge, 
evil-speaking, and perhaps other sins besides. If the 
person is not at the time in a sober mood, or if his 
temper is habitually irritable, a mild and cautious 
course must be taken. There are many yielding mo- 
ments, in the lives of the most stubborn natures, 
whose return it is wise to watch and improve. "The 
guilty," says Seneca, "are like one that has an ulcer 
which at first is hurt with every touch, and at last 
even with the suspicion of a touch." 16 Those who 
feel the force of a warning which they have resolved 
not to obey, are the more displeased the oftener it is 

w Epistles, 97 and 105. 



RE PROOF. 



167 



repeated. Nevertheless it is now and then incum- 
bent upon us to expostulate with those who are 
keenly sensible of their guilt, and if upon every fresh 
rebuke, they manifest a growing sensitiveness, it 
shows that they are either advancing in the career of 
sin, or discovering in their hearts new depths of de- 
pravity. 

It is in general less hazardous to accuse a man of a 
failing of the heart, than of a weakness of the intel- 
lect. Most men would rather be blamed for want of 
virtue than want of sense. Accordingly we should 
go no further than to convince them of their guilt. 
If we set ourselves to show them their folly also, they 
may be provoked to a denial of both. When the 
transgressor has shown shrewdness and sagacity in 
committing sin, we may express to him our regret 
that he should have prostituted his abilities by exert- 
ing them in acts of disobedience, and that the per- 
version of them should serve but to enhance his crim- 
inality. They err who set themselves to convince a 
man that pursues an unlawful but lucrative calling 
that he would realize greater pecuniary gains by a 
lawful employment. It is true, that, in many cases, 
he might reasonably expect this result, but he could 
have no warrant to expect it in every case. The New 
Testament nowhere holds out pelf as a reward of vir- 
tue ; on the contrary, it exposes the error of those 
who suppose that godliness is favorable to the accu- 
mulation of earthly gain. 17 It declares that, for all the 
penitent forsakes, of temporal good, he is to receive a 
hundred fold in this life, of spiritual benefits. He 
who renounces sin does not thereby increase his 
l Timothy, vi. 5. 



168 



REPROOF. 



wealth, but lie obtains what is infinitely better — what 
" with contentment is great gain." He does not, in 
that act, win more of human honor than he had be- 
fore, but he does obtain the hope that in a little 
while he shall hear from the lips of his Great Task- 
master, the words, "Well done, good and faithful 
servant; 55 — he does not gain a release from sorrow 
and pain, yet he receives the grace that disarms 
them of their sting, and converts them into untold 
blessings. The attempt, then, to persuade the sinner 
that, by a life of piety, he will more rapidly amass 
earthly substance, to say nothing of perverting and 
degrading the Gospel, is but to reflect on, or at 
least to contradict, his own understanding, which has 
come to a different conclusion. We ought to help 
him to distinguish between what is lucrative and 
what is right, and between inferior and limited good 
and supreme and infinite good. Until he can per- 
ceive the difference between these ideas, he has not 
taken the first step towards virtue, and to hold out to 
him a temporal motive to the pursuit of it, is only to 
remove it further beyond his reach. 

In rallying another in the way of gentle reproof, 
some are addicted to such frolicsome speeches as 
are received as flatteries rather than corrections. 
" But must I not preserve the character of a friend, 
and should not kindness prompt all my reprimands?" 
Without the shadow of a doubt. Yet your flashes of 
wit, like lightning in a dark night, should not reveal 
the fault for a moment only to conceal it in a deeper 
gloom. Also avoid sly and equivocal satire. Let 
your reproofs be open and manly. There is a great 
difference between rudeness ai?id plainness. The 



REPROOF. 



169 



erring forgive severity sooner than cowardice and 
meanness. They are of the opinion of the old phi- 
losopher, who said, " If I must suffer, I had rather 
it should be from the paw of a lion than the hoof of 
an ass." 

Intimate acquaintance should not rebuke one an- 
other before company. It is as bad to throw out a 
mysterious hint as a plain accusation. "Whether it 
be English or Arabic to the stranger, the impression 
it makes on his mind is the same. 

A person may sometimes be most effectually called 
back into the way of duty without revealing to him 
our knowledge of his wanderings. A chief officer in 
the emperor Adrian's army, whom he knew to be a 
malcontent and a maligner of his glory, was going 
to run away in the midst of a battle. Adrian, seeing 
him turning his back on the foe, stopped him, and 
with a sweet and affable air, only said : "You are 
going wrong I perceive ; this is your way." Where- 
upon the officer turned his horse, as if it had been a 
simple mistake of his, and not a meditated flight. 

Aim to bring your admonitory remarks to a mild 
and soothing close, so that the feather of the arrow 
may heal the wound inflicted by its point. One of 
the kings of England was highly incensed by read- 
ing a keen satire against himself ; and as he read on 
declared again and again that the author should suf- 
fer for his libel, but forgave him the moment he read 
the last two lines which were these ; 

" Now, God preserve the king, the queen, the peers — 
And grant the author long may wear his ears." 

"We have known the severest rebukes to be kindly 

H 



170 



REPROOF. 



received when they were brought to some such con- 
clusion as the following : " Bad as you are I do not 
think you so bad as to be unwilling to be informed 
of your faults." 

We ought to beware of reminding another of too 
many faults at a time. There are but few who can 
bear accusation upon accusation. It is wisest, first 
to suggest amendment in one particular, and then 
wait to see whether the hint is heeded ; if not, we 
can hardly hope that further admonition will be. 
Queen Caroline pressed Bishop Bundle to tell her of 
her faults. "If it so please your majesty," said he, 
" I will tell you of one. It is to be lamented that you 
talk so much with the king during divine service." 
"Thank you, my lord bishop," said the queen, "now 
tell me another of my faults." " That I will do with 
great pleasure," said he, " when you have corrected 
the one I have just mentioned." 

There are some persons w T hom it is inexpedient 
ever to take to task. " He that reproveth a scorner 
getteth to himself shame." The Christian is not 
required to give himself up to the tender mercies 
of sarcasm, ribaldry, or waggery, nor allow his 
soul to be harrowed by termagants and blusterers, 
and "sons of Belial, that a man cannot speak to." 
Our Lord has too tender an affection for his little 
ones to consent that they be sacrificed to the fury 
of his enemies, unless their martyrdom can help to 
lessen the number of his foes by making them His 
friends. A fable in a Hindoo collection, the Pancha 
Tantra of Bidpai, so beautifully illustrates this point 
and is so rarely met with in English, that we must 
be pardoned for repeating it. A number of monkeys 



REPROOF. 



171 



who lived in a mountain, on a cold, windy and rainy 
night sought for a fire to warm themselves ; at last 
they saw a glowworm, and thinking it was a spark 
of fire, they gathered some wood and threw it upon 
it ; not far off there was a bird upon a tree, which, 
observing what they were doing, cried out to them 
and endeavored to convince them of their error. 
This scene attracted the attention of a man that was 
passing by who told the bird that it was wasting both 
time and patience, and that no one thought of prov- 
ing a sword upon a stubborn, impenetrable stone, 
or of making a bow out of a piece of wood that 
would not bend. The bird, however, without attend- 
ing to him, flew down to them to prove to them that 
the glowworm was not fire, but in recompense for 
his pains was seized by one of them, dashed upon 
the ground and killed. 

It must be borne in mind that private offences are 
to be corrected in private. Whoever checks a pri- 
vate misdeed in public will be thought more desirous 
of dragging it to light than of preventing its repeti- 
tion — of deepening the offender's mortification than 
of effecting his amendment. Nor is this all ; the 
reprover becomes himself a public offender, merit- 
ing a public rebuke. When Socrates once reproved 
Plato at a feast, for some private offence, Plato re- 
plied that it had been better to tell him of his fault 
in private ; for to mention it in public was an im- 
propriety. Socrates answered, " And so it is for you 
publicly to condemn that impropriety." Socrates 
was, we humbly conceive, in the wrong here. It 
was admissible for Plato openly to reprimand him ; 
for by holding up Plato's fault before the whole 



172 



REPROOF. 



party, lie had done him a public injustice, and had 
also wronged the guests by disturbing their peace. 
As to public offences they are to be reproved as pub- 
licly as the offence was committed, that is, in the 
presence of those who witnessed the obnoxious act, 
and at the time when, and in the place where, it was 
committed ; with this salvo, however, that where it 
is impossible from the nature of the case to rebuke 
the act on the spot, and where the offence is of fla- 
grant nature, and an injury to society at large. 

It is, for the most part, needless to reprove those 
who are already self-rebuked. Sometimes we shall 
find that the transgressor's conscience has forestalled 
us ; so that there will be no need of repeating the 
duty. To remind another of a sin of which he stands 
self-convicted, and to deepen remorse which is even 
now excruciating, is less likely to bring him back to 
rectitude than to drive him to despair. 

In some cases the reprover will keep clear of pro- 
vocation, by addressing the misdoer in the language 
of the Sacred Oracles. And where he may not 
think it w r ise to commence with quotations, he should 
at least prepare himself to fortify every charge with 
suitable texts. The citation of a scripture command, 
warning, entreaty, or exhortation, has two advantages ; 
it carries with it instruction and conviction, no less 
than correction — and if the sinner should resent it, 
he can be easily convinced that he is resisting God 
Almighty, and not the reprover alone. He who per- 
forms this duty should be well furnished with Scrip- 
ture instructions and promises relating to the case, in 
order that the rebuked, like Telephus, may be healed 
by the same spear that inflicted the wound. 



REPROOF. 



173 



Brotherly tenderness oftentimes requires us to 
allude to the offence in the mildest terms. The plain 
Saxon may need to be displaced by words more po- 
lite and euphemistic. Our object should be, not to 
conceal the idea to be conveyed, but only to cover its 
grossness. Many being more shocked to hear the 
names of certain vices than by committing the vices 
themselves, we must be careful not to offend their 
taste when we only purpose to make them loathe 
their sins. We do by no means direct any one to 
use, with all sorts of persons, those belittling words 
and phrases by which sins are hardly hinted at. 
They serve in too many cases to flatter the offender 
with the delusion, that his sin is no worse than the 
delicate name which the polite world consents to give 
it. But at the same time it is our duty, when deal- 
ing with persons that are habituated to this style, as 
far as can well be, to adopt it. And even where we 
are called upon to denominate sins by their proper 
terms, we should beware of doing it in a harsh tone. 
Gentle methods, by paying a due respect to the per- 
son dealt with, and by showing the good will and 
compassion of him that uses them, are armed with 
moral power of the highest kind ; so true is that 
paradoxical proverb of Solomon, "A soft tongue 
breaketh the bone." 

Some persons are so sensitive to blame, or so jeal- 
ous of their reputation, that a censure seriously dis- 
turbs their peace. Even some have been taken to 
task in such a way, or in such circumstances, that 
they have never fairly recovered the stroke. It be- 
hooves us accordingly to consider the temper and 
nerves of the subject. And it is well if we can 



174 



REPROOF. 



manage with such a good grace, as to leave the re- 
buked so pleased with the manner, as for a time to 
forget the matter, and as to merit the praise Adam 
is made to pay to the angel who brought to him the 
decree of banishment from Eden. 

" Gently hast thou told 
Thy message, which might else in telling wound, 
And in performing end us." 

It is here that circumlocutions find an appropriate 
place. They are a sort of gossamer in which the 
seeds of censure are wrapped, borne slowly along, 
and made to light softly upon their destined place. 
"The mischief of concise sayings," remarks Lord 
Bacon, " is, that they are darts supposed to be shot 
from their secret intentions ; while long discourses 
are fiat, less noticed, and little remembered." Strong 
passion speaks with brevity and directness, and 
rouses a kindred passion in others. But as the re- 
prehender is supposed to be swayed by no pique or 
prejudice, such language does not comport with the 
nature of the duty. The most of us never forget a 
reproof received, though we sometimes despise it, 
and we may count ourselves happy if we are not 
pestered with the recollection of some harsh word 
or short sentence, which seemed charged with some- 
thing beyond the needful sense, and looked like a 
design to gratify secret malice. 

Our Lord and the prophets betimes conveyed their 
reproofs in parables, with most admirable effect. 
We may take pattern from them in this particu- 
lar, and occasionally set another right by the help 
of a real or supposed instance, either with or with- 
out the application, as the case may warrant. 



REPKOOF. 



175 



The gift or recommendation of a tract, sermon, or 
treatise on the sin to be rebuked, will at times prove 
more serviceable than a personal address. One of 
the most delicate mediums of performing this duty- 
is an epistle. The missive should in all cases bear 
the name of the writer. Such a course is dictated 
by Christian frankness, and prevents groundless sus- 
picions. 

Occasionally we can best check a vice by a gen- 
eral remark on some moral or religious subject, and 
without being directly personal, leave the transgres- 
sor to be admonished by a plain inference from our 
remark. John Howe excelled in this kind of reproof. 
Several anecdotes are related of him which prove 
him to have been an admirable pattern in this par- 
ticular. We must venture to relate one. At the time 
the Conformity Bill was debated in Parliament, Mr. 
Howe passed a noble lord in a chair, who sent his foot- 
man to call him, desiring to speak with him on this 
subject. In conversation, speaking of the opponents 

of the dissenters, he said, "d n these wretches, 

for they are mad." Mr. Howe, who was no stranger 
to the nobleman, expressed great satisfaction in the 
thought that there is a God who governs the world, 
who will finally make retribution to all according to 
their present character. "And he, my lord, has 
declared he will make a difference between him that 
sweareth and him that feareth an oath." 18 The noble- 
man was struck with the hint, and said, "I thank 
you, sir, for your freedom. I take your meaning, 

18 u Oath" was here intended as an equivoque : The oath required 
by the Oxford, or Five-Mile Act, was at this time agitating the 
nation. 



176 



REPROOF. 



and shall endeavor to make good use of it." Mr. 
Howe replied, " My lord, I have more reason to 
thank your lordship for saving me the most difficult 
part of a discourse, which is the application." Ob- 
lique admonitions of this kind may be given with 
excellent effect. They are not likely to irritate, and 
if they do they afford a shield to the admonisher. 
Still those reproofs which spring from a propensity 
to deal in ambiguities, are more vexatious than use- 
ful, and when they proceed from a habit of moraliz- 
ing on even the most trifling foibles of others, little 
or no good comes of them. 

A good way to reform some people is to provoke 
them to laugh at their own faults. A sportive wipe, 
a little raillery, or a lively passing allusion, is often 
more effective than the most serious and formal 
rebuke. The Roman bondmen took advantage of 
the liberty granted them during the Saturnalia, to 
open before their masters the budget of their wrongs, 
and amidst mirth and festivity made bold to teach 
them how to rule with clemency. The merry- 
andrews which princes formerly kept at court, had 
a way of rallying the great which wrought all the 
effect of rebuke, with nothing of its asperity. To 
do this with success requires some discrimination. 
Persons naturally morose, or of slow parts, or of a 
suspicious disposition, can seldom be so dealt with. 
It answers best with those who are of a cheerful 
temper, and those who know how to relish wit and 
humor. Even to these the correction should be 
administered with an air of pleasantry which is not 
the least tinctured with sarcasm. One advantage 
of these jocund strokes is, that they clear the moni- 



REPROOF. 



177 



tor of all suspicion of malice and censoriousness. 
They also give the corrected person an opportunity 
to pass on to another subject, as if inattentive or 
insensible to the chiding, and by keeping him in a 
good humor, prepare him to give it a dispassionate 
consideration. It is worth remarking, however, that 
peccadillos only are the proper subjects of raillery. 
Notorious vices and great transgressions must be 
treated with seriousness. To sport with these were 
to show insensibility to their heinousness, and pre- 
vent its being felt by the transgressor. 

"When the offender is our superior, our correction 
must not take the form of a rebuke. The direction 
of Paul to Timothy is : " Rebuke not an elder, but 
entreat him as a father, and the elder women as 
mothers." He means that we should reclaim such 
by a respectful and affectionate request, asking them 
whether the habit or action in question is in their 
opinion sanctioned by the Divine authority ; whether 
they would not so far indulge our scruples as to adopt 
a certain course, taking care to express our submis- 
sion to their better judgment, and our deference for 
their wisdom, experience, and years. We do not un- 
dertake to give any form of entreaty. Every one 
must be left to use such expressions as circumstances 
suggest. The proper performance of this duty de- 
pends not so much upon the words employed as upon 
the meek, tender, and reverential spirit, that should 
prompt and pervade them. Many persons excuse 
themselves from correcting their elders on the plea 
of their youth, but if they have a modesty answera- 
able to their years, the merest hint from them is more 
powerful than the most methodical rebuke of older 



178 



REPROOF. 



persons. Milton's Satan is never ashamed but once, 
and then it is at the reproof of a youthful angel : 

" So spake the cherub, and his grave rebuke 
Severe in youthful beauty, added grace 
Invincible ; abashed the devil stood, 
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
Virtue in her own shape how lovely ! saw and pin'd 
His loss." 

In some instances a young person, or other inferior, 
ought not to correct a superior in any manner, but 
should prevail on some person of equal years or rank 
to perform the duty. This cannot be effected in 
cases of private injury, nor where the fault was pre- 
viously unknown to the superior. The offender will 
not account it a kindness in us to divulge his misdeed 
to another, simply for the reason that he was a more 
proper person to reprehend it. 

In reclaiming Christian brethren, the form of en- 
treaty is to be used in preference to that of rebuke. 
In the connection of the above cited precept, the 
apostle adds : "Mitreat the younger men as brethren, 
and the younger women as sisters." Paul exempli- 
fies his own precept in his letter to Philemon, say- 
ing, " Though I might be much bold to enjoin thee 
that which is convenient, yet for love's sake I rather 
beseech thee." From these Scriptures we learn what 
is very generally overlooked, that no fellow disciple 
in good standing and of unimpeached character is to 
be in strict sense rebuked, but rather entreated, when 
he is in error or fault. The endearing ties which 
unite brethren provide them with milder means of re- 
claiming one another. The rebuke partakes more or 
less of the nature of a command or prohibition, and 



REPROOF. 



179 



can properly be administered only by a clmrch or its 
officers, to stupid, or obstinate, or gross sinners, who 
are subjects of discipline, and by those who correct 
secular men. 

When those who have made the general request 
that whenever we find them erring, we admonish 
them, do not receive our admonitions as thankfully 
as we could have wished, we should not conclude 
that they were insincere when they asked us to do 
the duty. Possibly they took for granted that it was 
to be performed in a becoming manner, and that 
some allowance was to be made for human infirmity. 
We cannot expect them to patronize a fault-finding 
spirit that taxes every action that does not exactly 
tally with our ideas of rectitude. So long as abso- 
lute Perfection Himself appears to have blemishes 
when contemplated by the disordered minds of the 
wicked, it is no wonder that such fallible creatures 
as we are should discover some faults in one another. 
We should tenderly respect a mind that has its scru- 
ples, but when it comes to grains, that is quite an- 
other affair. Were we not to set some limits to 
reproof, the whole earth would resound with the 
clamor of accusation. 

On the other hand, there is a species of reproof 
which lulls one into self-deception with respect to the 
drift of his conduct, or the mass of his character. It 
consists in reproving him for a trifle, while we are 
silent as to some deep-seated vice, leaving him to 
suppose that we know of nothing else that calls for 
reprehension, and tacitly flattering him that he is 
guilty of no other, or at least of no greater sin. " If 
my friend," he says to himself, " is so faithful as to 



180 



REPKOOF. 



notice so small a matter, certainly he would not leave 
me unwarned of a greater." Most of those who are 
addicted to this species of flattery do not intend to 
hoodwink and mislead others. Nothing is more for- 
eign to their thoughts. But whether they purpose to 
deceive or to please, in either case the consequences 
are the same. The transgressor is left to commit the 
most glaring offences unchecked, and what is worse, 
is left fatally blind to his own guilt. This negligent 
way of dealing with souls is practised to an appalling 
extent. There are spiritual guides who are careful 
to set their followers right as to matters of mere 
opinion or ceremony, but pass by their covetousness, 
or prodigality, or sensuality, or some other vicious 
habit. With pharisaic niceness, exacting of them 
tithes of mint, and rue, and cummin, they allow 
them to live altogether remiss in weightier matters. 
They admonish them of a venial weakness, but it is 
only that they may cause them to fall a more easy 
prey to some giant passion. 

It is incumbent upon us to mingle merited com- 
pliment with faithful reproof, that while we point out 
to others their vices, we shall not seem blind to their 
virtues. This is the more important, inasmuch as 
devoted and active Christians betray faults which 
others conceal in inaction and conformity to the 
world. He who dares to step in advance of his 
brethren, becomes a more conspicuous object than 
he who is lost in the multitude of formal professors 
or the throng of unbelievers ; Peter is more blamed 
for following his Master a great way off, than the 
rest of the disciples for seeking safety in flight. A 
single blemish on a character generally fair, is more 



REPROOF, 



181 



remarked than one on a character thickly set with 
them. The wise reprover will consider these things. 
He will also reflect that he who is known to be meek 
and deferential invites animadversions and receives 
them from such as have not the hardiness to deal 
with a person of a different description. Observing 
that he is not hurt and thanks them for their fidelity 
and kindness, they are encouraged to be lavish of 
their admonitions, and they withhold the emollient 
of praise in proportion as he seems not to suffer 
from the wound. But none the less justice is due to 
such a man because he does not exact it. " Those/ 5 
says Pliny, " who bear censure most patiently, most 
deserve our praise." 

It is meet that we express our gratitude for reproof 
and our determination to give heed to it. To none 
are our thanks more due than to those who seek the 
amendment of our morals. They exercise no small 
self-denial who call our attention to our faults, and 
they could not confer upon us a greater favor than 
to assist us in the pursuit of moral excellence. We 
ought to receive reproof as singular marks of affec- 
tion and good will. Only let us never show our 
gratitude by making a return in kind. To do this is 
to declare that we intend to return injury for injury, 
by revealing to the reprover faults which we should 
never have made known at all, had not our resent- 
ment invited us to the duty. 

It being the proper use of reproof to bring another 
back to duty, when this end can be better compassed 
by other means, they should be employed. In some, 
a vice is sooner subdued by implanting an opposite 
virtue, than by a direct endeavor to uproot it ; and 



182 



REPROOF. 



there are numbers whose vices are of such a nature 
that it were better to avoid all mention of them, and 
aim to procure an entire renovation of their hearts. 

Happy is he who has a brother that knows when, 
and where, and how, to perform this duty — that 
does not set himself up for a censor — blaming by 
rule, and ever on the watch for motes ; and happy is 
he, who is cordially thankful for the word of admoni- 
tion, and gives diligent heed thereto. " As an ear- 
ring of gold and an ornament of fine gold, so is a 
wise reprover upon an obedient ear." 



CHAPTER X. 



FLATTERY AND PRAISE. 

It may look like presumption in us to attempt to 
add anything to what has been written on the sub- 
ject of flattery. Yet the vague and erroneous no- 
tions that are current in the world, nay and among 
Christians, upon this subject, and which some popu- 
lar authors have helped not a little to advance, re- 
quire one who professes to treat of the moralities of 
speech, to give this subject some consideration. 
There are authors in abundance who reduce flattery 
to a system, and recommend it without scruple. 
Chesterfield, La Bruy&re, Duclos, and other kindred 
names approve it, while others are at a loss whether 
to condemn it or not. But we have a guide that 
does not leave us in the dark on this point. It says, 
"He that speaketh flattery to his friends, even the 
eyes of his children shall fail." Again, " The Lord 
will cut off all flattering lips ;" and again, " Meddle 
not with him that flattereth with his lips." These 
words, and others like these, stand the Christian 
instead of a world of mere human documents, and 
with him set the matter forever at rest. 

Flattery is the condolence of people of fashion, 
making amends for the decay of beauty, and for the 
loss of fortune, cast, and character. It raises them 



184 FLATTEKY AND PRAISE. 



in their own esteem in proportion as they sink in real 
worth, and fills up with vanity every void that exists 
in the mind. It seasons the insipidities, and settles 
the disgusts of company, and by the soothing recol- 
lections it suggests, relieves the languor and restless- 
ness of occasional solitude. 

Many of them kaow a real friend from a flatterer, 
and yet they caress the flatterer, and dismiss the 
honest and faithful friend. They receive with secret 
satisfaction the most extravagant and impudent pan- 
egyrics, and tamely allow themselves to be deluded 
by declarations which they know to be untrue. Such 
an ambiguity is man. His vanity countenances those 
who overrate him, and brings him at length to act upon 
their words as though they were strictly true. And 
if he is one of those rare spirits that will not credit 
all the fine things that are said to him, he still per- 
haps takes pleasure in reflecting that others are so 
dependent on him, as to resort to this vile means of 
propitiating his smile, or of appeasing his frown. So 
that this implied acknowledgment of his power has 
the effect of the grossest flattery, and betrays him 
into the power of others. 

Bife as this vice is in the unbelieving world, would 
that it were confined to it alone. It is with pain that 
we say it is not unknown among professors of re- 
ligion. They do not, to be sure, flatter one another 
for the same qualities that the world do ; but, what 
amounts to the same thing, for those which they most 
highly value. Since there is nothing the sons of 
glory so eagerly covet as humility, devotedness, be- 
nevolence, and the like virtues, they laud one another 
for eminence in these. Critobulus said to Socrates, 



FLATTERY AND PRAISE. 



185 



"You remember the song the syrens used to charm 
Ulysses with ? It began thus : 

1 stay, O pride of Greece, Ulysses, stay.' 

Such was their language, Socrates — but did they not 
mean to detain others by their charms as well as 
Ulysses/' Socrates replied, " jSTot at all, Critobulus, 
words like these were only designed to allure noble 
souls and lovers of virtue." It is in this way that 
the skilful flatterer always addresses the ruling pas- 
sion. iSTot a few seem to suppose that the Christian 
is in no danger of overrating his virtues, and of prid- 
ing himself on them, else that their flatteries are 
somehow sanctified by the holy qualities which they 
ascribe to one another. The truth is, however, that 
they are never so criminal and pernicious as when 
they circulate among brethren. 

Among those who fall victims to this kind of adu- 
lation, we sometimes find the preacher. A man can 
hardly be raised above the heads of his fellows with- 
out giddiness, and it increases in proportion to his 
elevation. The clergyman can dispense with studied 
cajoleries; the high rank he holds in society, and 
the incomparable dignity of his office, keep him duly 
mindful of his own importance. The praisers of ser- 
mons are in general strictly honest in their eulo- 
giums ; when they hear a sermon which is season- 
able and beneficial to them, they will naturally com- 
mend it. They may properly speak of its effect on 
their minds ; but to pronounce wisQly on the intrinsic 
merits of a sermon immediately after hearing it, is 
one of the last achievements of the most practiced 
critic. Hence much that is intended for praise is 



186 FLATTERY AND PEAISE. 



not received as such by a sensible preacher. Those 
who laud a preacher's style, arrangement, or delivery, 
do but proclaim his inefficiency. Demosthenes filled 
the minds of his audience with his subject, not his 
oratory. Nearly all the panegyrics on the preaching 
of Whitefield we have ever read, say less of his ser- 
mons than of their wonderful effects. When Lord 
Brougham was once taken by Sir James Mackintosh 
to hear Robert Hall, he requested after the sermon 
to be introduced to him, and: proceeded to compli- 
ment him on the discourse till checked by Mr. Hall 
asking : "But what of the subject, sir? What think 
you of it, sir? Was it the truth *of God, sir?" 
When congregations go home, thinking or talking of 
the theme of the preacher, and the duties he has 
been urging, they pay him as high a compliment as 
he ought to desire. 

The pest of flattery is not confined to the clergy, it 
rages among the laity : they infect one another. Is 
one discovered to be gifted in prayer? Soon he 
learns that his brethren know how to admire his pe- 
titions. Is he an able exhorter? How ready are 
some to puff up his vanity. Is he a liberal giver ? 
The anointed press publishes his name to all Christ- 
endom : so that he is taught to forget that the gospel 
exacts simplicity in acts of charity. These spoilt 
children of the Church never do good by stealth, and 
in meting out to them what we consider just praise 
for some instance of generosity that has attracted 
our notice, they, straightway strike up a strain of 
self-commendation to which the most brazen-browed 
of their flatterers would be unequal; telling over 
their charities item by item, so that you can make 



FLATTERY AND PRAISE. 187 



an exact calculation of all they have ever consecra- 
ted to benevolent objects. Now, we do not lay open 
the faults of any of these noble characters because 
we take pleasure in such work. Nothing of the kind. 
Only we would have these faults cease to be. We 
would have men who are pillars in the churches — 
pillars, too, crowned with comely Corinthian capitals 
— who do more in amount and with a great deal less 
pretension and noise, for benevolent objects, than 
any other class of men ; we would have them keep 
out of the thinnest shadow of unhallowed motives. 

The pious economiast is understood to expect for 
his services a return in kind. By saying fine things 
of us, he lays us under a kind of obligation to repay 
him with something equally fine ; he both deceives 
others, and hires them to dupe himself. Those who 
thus live on the admiration of others, neglect the vir- 
tues and remit the duties which might make them 
praiseworthy. Finding that they can obtain the ap- 
plause of their friends at the cheap rate of flattery, 
they do not barter for it a more valuable commodity. 
There are circles that wholly give themselves up to 
this game of flattery, as if this were the sole design 
of their confederation, till they have crowned one 
another with garlands of poppies, when they lie 
down in spiritual sleep. Many a coterie has adula- 
tion changed into such a drowsy elysium. 

We sometimes hear it plead in apology for flat- 
tery, that he must be a churl indeed who can refuse 
to make another happy when a few words only are re- 
quired to do it. It is much as if, for the like reason, 
we gave money to aid the opium-eater, impoverished 
already by his vice to procure a few grains for the 



188 



FLATTEEY AND PKAISE. 



renewal of his deadly dissipation. If happiness, it 
is ruinous and demoralizing. We shall not pause to 
examine this apology further— which is such as none 
but a flatterer would have the face to offer— but go 
on to say that, if we would please others, we had 
better be indulgent and good-humored towards their 
faults than ascribe to them qualities they do not 
possess ; for flattery is little else than an endeavor 
to hide the known defects of a character by attribut- 
ing to it imaginary excellences. Sincere kindness 
is the best policy here, and he pleases aright who 
frankly tells another his failings, and at the same 
time convinces him that he does not cease to love or 
admire him on their account. To be able to speak 
the truth without giving offence, is % proof of greater 
skill in the art of complaisance than to tell an un- 
truth on purpose to please. 

We meet with more than a few who are passion- 
ately fond of receiving compliments though they 
rarely return one, and when they do, it is paid 
grudgingly. We have somewhere read of a noble- 
man, who, though he exceedingly loved to be flatter- 
ed himself, was so far from being guilty of this vice, 
that he was remarkably free to tell others their 
faults. A friend one day said to him, he wondered 
that he who loved to be flattered better than any 
other man living, did not return a little of it himself. 
He replied that he could never think of giving away 
what he so eagerly coveted. Some refuse to repay 
adulation, because they think that others do them no 
more than justice. Too few omit to return it from a 
wish to stop this commerce in lies. The reciproca- 
tion of just praise sometimes springs from the lauda- 



FLATTERY AND PRAISE. 



189 



ble desire of giving another to know that, notwith- 
standing his high opinion of us, we do not count 
ourselves his superiors. 

Blessed be the times ! flattery is now beginning to 
be placed among the antiques. Whoever is detected 
flattering is, to make the best of him, set down as 
belonging to the old school. A shopkeeper we have 
read of, was one day dealing out to a customer the 
grossest flattery, when the latter interrupted him — 
" Sir, you are mistaken in your chronology." " Mis- 
taken in my chronology !" exclaimed the surprised 
glozer ; " what has that to do with the matter ?" 
" Only this, that so early as the year 1540, this kind 
of complimentary insult had become obsolete." The 
flatterer was struck dumb, of course. 

If we would not have one suspect us of any evil 
design in our praise, we should add out reasons for 
it. If another merits our approbation, certainly there 
is some ground for the merit ; and we are bound to 
mention it. Then, on the other hand, many never 
approve you, lest they should appear to have some 
designs upon you. They are incessantly saying ; 
"There, you are in the wrong again." "You are 
to blame for this reason and for that reason, and for 
the other reason." Many of your coarse and cnrt- 
tongued people, who are so very honest — are base 
mongrels, generated between the knave and the fool. 

Many people would have us praise those whom 
they praise, not because they desire to exalt others, 
but because they seek an indirect compliment for 
their own judgment. If we will only bow the knee 
beside them before their Eimmon, it is all as if we 
had made themselves our idol. 



190 



FLATTEBY AND PRAISE. 



There be those who are as malignant in their 
praises as they are in their detractions. They will 
praise a man before his rival, that they may wound 
his pride or inflame his envy. Those who praise 
one person in the presence of another who is dis- 
tinguished for the same excellence, are likely to 
excite the antipathy of the latter towards them- 
selves ; for unless his better feelings hold the as- 
cendency, he will either despise the stupidity or 
hate the malice that overlooked his own virtues, 
and extolled another at his expense. 

There are those who commend others with the 
intent to praise themselves. They so ardently ad- 
mire certain virtues, and show such a nice discrimi- 
nation in the treatment of them, and withal such 
indignation at the opposite vices, that they draw 
people insensibly to the notion that they are them- 
selves eminent for the same. And perhaps they 
gain a reputation not only for the qualities they 
panegyrize, but also for candor and liberality in 
acknowledging the merits of those who are their 
equals or superiors. Some again there are who 
eulogize a friend with an eloquence that makes the 
hearers forget the subject in their admiration of the 
orator. 

Those who intend really to praise another, should 
not speak of him in the language of hyperbole. They 
run the hazard of inflaming the envy or the jealousy 
of their hearers, who are tempted to run him down as 
far below the merited mark as he was raised above 
it. It is more judicious to set some bounds to our 
admiration, and mention some fault which may 
justly be imputed to him ; so we shall set off his 



FLATTERY AND PKAISE. 



191 



virtues to better advantage, by way of shading or of 
contrast, and hold out to others no temptation to 
attack his imperfections. 

The Christian must avoid, in his compliments, the in- 
discriminate use of that exaggerated language which, 
though it may become those among whom custom has 
given it a fixed meaning, it is otherwise not compat- 
ible with the character of those who are expected to 
observe at all times a moderation of speech, and to 
keep far within the bounds of verity. Something it 
is true must be allowed for the import of certain 
words and phrases, which have come to convey a 
conventional, not a literal meaning. Such may be 
used without the slightest departure from truth. To 
lie is to convey a false idea, and this can be as 
readily done by words which come short of the fact, 
as by those that go beyond it. In this view, he who 
expresses a sincere compliment in the tumorous style 
of the fashionable world, no more tells an untruth, 
than he who conveys the same idea in the language 
of rigid Exactness. He who tries to couch his com- 
pliments in moderate terms, labors under this diffi- 
culty ; that those who have been accustomed to be 
addressed in a loftier style, will receive his words as 
purporting less than he intended. Still, however, 
for the purpose of keeping clear of the charge of 
insincerity from those who are not habituated to this 
style, and of preserving the language itself from 
corruption, we should, where necessary, be ready to 
sacrifice eloquence to precision. Montaigne, speak- 
ing of the manners of his age, says that there never 
was, at any other time, so abject and servile a pros- 
titution of words in the conversation of people of 



192 



FLATTERY AND PRAISE. 



fashion; the humblest tenders of life and soul, no 
professions of regard under those of adoration and 
devotion, writers constantly declaring themselves 
vassals and slaves ; so that when true friendship or 
gratitude sought to give utterance to its genuine 
feelings, words were wanting to express them. 

We should be the more scrupulous on this point, 
because flattery is the worst sort of falsehood. Other 
lies are generally detected, and the liar exposed and 
punished, but flattery is a kind of untruth which the 
person for whom it was intended does not desire to 
detect, and when others demonstrate to him its falsi- 
ty he is slow to admit it, because he loves to be- 
lieve it true. Other falsehoods may expose us to 
the loss of friends, fame, or wealth, but this nour- 
ishes into a monstrous growth the original pride of 
the fallen soul, and involves us more and more in 
guilt and self-ignorance, and consequently in ignor- 
ance of others. 

When others are flattering us unwittingly, and 
magnifying us for qualities and actions that do not 
belong to us, we ought to think it worth while to 
disabuse them of the mistaken estimate they have 
formed of us. " Princes," says Machiavelli, " have 
no other way of expelling flatterers from their courts, 
than by showing that the truth will not offend." He 
who listens with manifest pleasure to laudatory dis- 
courses which he knows to be not true, patronizes 
falsehood ; but he who is careful to know, and to have 
others know, his real character will not long be pes- 
tered with glozers. We ought not to suffer others to 
repeat, without correction, rumors or anecdotes that 
are reputable to us, though misrelated or utterly 



FLATTERY AND PKAISE. 



193 



without foundation, or fine sayings which are falsely 
attributed to us. We should correct every misstate- 
ment of this nature, and reduce it to the exact 
measure of fact. No man is the better for a reputa- 
tion that does not grow out of real worth ; for his 
true character will be known one time or another. 
But he who takes proper occasion to remove the 
gilding his admirers may have laid upon his charac- 
ter, instead of hearing the praises of his deluded 
admirers with a self-complacent smile, will, if he do 
it modestly, gain the confidence, though he may lose 
the eulogiums, of his fellow-men. There could be 
no higher encomium on the piety of Richard Bax- 
ter than the fact recorded by his biographer, that he 
was desirous that no one should overrate his Chris- 
tian attainments. 

A wise man is as highly complimented by being 
informed of the disapprobation of the bad as he is 
of the approbation of the good. For the reproaches 
and detractions of a mean man, though despicable 
in themselves, serve as clouds to reflect the glory of 
an enviable fame. Obloquy and abuse were thought 
to be essential parts of a Roman triumph ; they 
are quite as needful attendants of victorious virtue. 
There is a tribe whose admiration is always ill-be- 
stowed, and 

" Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise." 

On the contrary, to be eulogized by the bad is to run 
the risk of losing the esteem of the good. Few men 
are duly appreciated except by kindred spirits, and 
he who pretends to admire a particular character, 

I 



194 



FLATTERY AND PBAISE. 



has, in the opinion of a different class of people, 
brought that character down to his own level. 

For this reason, as well as for others that might be 
named, we should not praise another, unless we are 
qualified to judge of his deservings. "We cannot 
properly praise a work in art, science, or literature, 
unless we possess a tolerable knowledge of the sub- 
ject. A person who is not competent to judge of a 
work, is permitted to say that a treatise, or sermon, 
or painting, or statue, pleases him, or tell how it 
strikes his mind, but for him to declare, in a decisive 
tone, his opinion of such a work, is to incur the contempt 
or the derision of adepts. Men of sense are not proud 
of laudations that do not come from equals or superiors. 

In the consideration of this subject, the desire of 
just approbation must be kept quite apart from the 
desire of flattery : the former springs from humility, 
the latter from pride. The man that courts adula- 
tion would learn whether he is as excellent in the 
esteem of others as he is in his own. Whereas he 
who desires the praise of the wise and the good 
would know whether there is any redeeming feature 
in his character, or any usefulness in his endeavors, 
or whether, as he often suspects, he is too partial to 
his own powers, or is misapplying them. He wishes 
some relief from the monotony of self-accusation, and 
from the fear that he is a useless or unwelcome atom 
in the immensity of matter. Without the encourage- 
ment of others, humility sinks into dejection, and fac- 
ulties that might otherwise have been rewarded by 
action, are wasted in despairing sloth. 

Accordingly, those who love flattery receive it 
with calmness and self-complacency, and those who 



FLATTERY AND PRAISE. 



195 



desire deserved approbation are apt to be con- 
fused and disconcerted by compliments ; they are 
ashamed to think that their deeds are matter of 
discourse, or their self-hid powers are exposed by 
others. " Merit," says Duclos, "like chastity, is 
modest ; he pronounces his own eulogy who cannot 
receive one without blushing and embarrassment." 

When we bestow praise on one who has been ben- 
eficial to others, together with ourselves, it is cour- 
teous not only to express our individual opinion, but 
also to volunteer to speak for them when they do not 
speak for themselves, and when we are sure they will 
agree with us in expressing the same sentiment. 

Praise occasionally proves a good vehicle for a 
precept, or warning, or exhortation. Not that we 
should bestow the praise for the sake of its append- 
ages ; but, when praising another, we may use the 
opportunity to make him more praiseworthy. 

We may often as strongly express our appreciation 
of another's merits by actions as by words. Indeed 
there are occasions when verbal praise is valued as it 
is seconded by an act of justice or kindness. 

Some people eulogize from beneath the mantle of 
prophecy. They confidently predict noble things of 
others with a view to extol their present capabilities. 
This prospective praise gives confidence to diffidence, 
strengthens feeble virtues, and revives languishing 
hopes. It is most suitably conferred upon youth. 
More direct commendation may be given to aged 
persons. They have learned to set a just value on 
human applause, and have grown too wise to suffer 
themselves to be intoxicated by it. The laurel 
wreath becomes a bald head. 



196 



FLATTERY AND PRAISE. 



Let the Christian beware of setting up a faulty- 
standard of excellence, or of being carried away 
with a blind admiration of the great ones of this 
world. Let him soberly inquire into the nature of 
their renown, and whether they have won it by just 
and generous means. Even the ancient heathen had 
juster notions of greatness than many nominal Chris- 
tians. They so inclosed the Temple of Honor that it 
could be entered only by passing through that of 
Yirtue. Some religious professors so use the epithet 
"good" as if they accounted goodness a doubtful, or 
at least a negative virtue. They say, "He is a good 
man" with an emphasis, or in a connection which 
denotes that there are many things in the world more 
estimable than piety. If they can think thus of the 
godly, the humble, the prayerful, and the beneficent, 
what can be their criterion of human worth? We 
will not undertake to say: it is, no doubt, best 
known to themselves. 



CHAPTEE XI. 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 

We have somewhere met with the remark, that if 
we were to pin together all the passionate speeches, 
all the imprudent actions of the best of men, all that 
he had said or done amiss in a whole life, and hang 
it upon him, so that it might all be seen at one view, 
at the same time concealing his wisdom and good- 
ness, the man in this disguise would look like a fool, 
or a fury, or perhaps a mixture of the two. So 
strange are the transformations that are wrought by 
the sorceries of the detractor — sorceries so powerful 
that they are successful in a thousand cases where 
the arts of the mere slanderer could avail nothing. 
The slanderer's falsehood has nothing but itself to 
commend it to belief ; but the detractor's falsehood 
connects itself with truths which gain for it a confi- 
dence as general and implicit as that which they in- 
spire. 

To tell what is strictly true to the injury of another, 
is frequently as criminal as to tell what is false to his 
injury. It may be the same both as to the motive 
that actuated it, and the results which eventually 
follow. It is oftener worse than better, in every re- 
spect. If one circulates what is wholly false, the 
chances are that the slander will soon be detected, 



198 DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



and the person vilified emerge from the cloud with 
brighter honors than ever ; whereas, if we tell of a 
real misdeed of another, he may never have the bold- 
ness to deny it, so that it will go on circulating and 
gaining belief all his days, and perhaps long after he 
is dead. It will exert a secret, yet blighting influ- 
ence on his reputation, and move on before him like 
some unseen hand, closing in his face every door to 
usefulness. No matter that he has repented of his 
transgression, and has radically reformed, no matter 
that he is now entitled to the highest admiration of 
mankind, some detractor has whispered a word that 
can never be recalled — a word which, most likely, 
represented him to be what he is not now, if not 
worse than he ever was. Yet every body boldly and 
industriously circulates the report, because, as he 
says, it is true. 

It is not to be overlooked, indeed, that there are 
higher considerations than those of reputation, which 
sometimes require us to set aside the general prin- 
ciple in question, and to expose the sin or crime of 
our neighbor. There are cases in which it would be 
a breach of our obligations to the church or to the 
state to conceal it, and by doing so, we would be ac- 
counted accessories. When others are likely to be 
injured by mistaking ones character, or by not know- 
ing his deeds, it is a duty we owe to their safety to 
caution them against him. Yet where the offence 
does not concern the public, but individuals alone, 
we have no authority for making it known. If we 
hear others speaking of him in too high terms, we 
have no right to state facts which would lower him 
him in their esteem, so their opinion of him does not 



DETKACTION AND SCANDAL. 



199 



control their action in any important affair. Every 
man is justly entitled to all the celebrity he enjoys, 
if he did not gain it wrongfully, or does not use it to 
compass hurtful ends. Even though he attained the 
eminence he has reached by offences against God, 
still, if withal he has not wronged man, none may 
presume to disturb him in his place, or in his honors : 
nay, we may not do it even then, if, though he has 
been unjust to others, he has not done us a mischief, 
nor made it obligatory upon us to bear testimony in 
behalf of an injured party. If it were otherwise, we 
might, with equal equity, plot the destruction of 
whatever belongs to our neighbor, on the plea that 
he acquired it by unlawful traffic. One may even 
use an ill-acquired reputation to support his attacks 
on the Gospel, without his being justly exposed to 
assaults upon that reputation, any further than to 
express our opinion of such an attack, and to show 
its incongruity with the character which is generally 
attributed to him, and to expose all such false pre- 
tensions as are set up on purpose to further error or 
irreligion. We cannot turn aside to attack his gen- 
eral character, which gives only an indirect aid to a 
pernicious cause. There are several reasons that for- 
bid us to do so, one of which is, that every one holds 
a property in the good will and confidence of his fel- 
low men. 

We are allowed to lay open the real character and 
actions of another when the exposure is necessary to 
the defence of our good name. No man can lawful- 
ly hide hostile weapons under the cloak of hypoc- 
risy, and he has no reason to complain, if we strip 
the cloak off his shoulders. At the same time we 



200 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



are permitted to expose the vices of another only so 
far as they take hold on our interests. We are not, 
indeed, accountable for the exposure of other vices 
and crimes which may incidentally result from the 
disclosure of the offence which concerns us. 

It is perhaps worth while here to say, that in none 
of the foregoing instances is it admissible for any 
one to feel hatred towards the person he is forced to 
expose. He needs a truly Christian spirit who would 
bear witness against another in a case in which he is 
himself involved, in such a way as to shut out the 
suspicion that his own interests have given some col- 
oring to his testimony. He who undertakes a self- 
vindication in a matter which is unknown to disin- 
terested persons, commonly pleads to little purpose. 
For how much soever of justice there may be on his 
side, he can never hope that justice will be done 
him by society, inasmuch as it is not a legal tribu- 
nal, and if it were, it would call for stronger evi- 
dence than he can bring. The greatest and most 
numerous wrongs are those which the strong commit 
against the weak, in circumstances where none but 
the parties are witnesses to the offence, and in cases 
in which, from the imperfections of human law, 
redress is not to be obtained. The wise suppress 
such griefs in their own hearts, considering that 
society takes no pleasure in hearing individual griev- 
ances. Though it is extremely difficult to hush 
injured justice, as she laments bitterly within us, we 
can seldom speak in our own defence except at the 
cost of dignity, or probity, or candor. The aggressor 
who does not trouble others with arguments in his 
own defence, is better received in society than the 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



201 



aggrieved who oppresses them with the story of his 
wrongs, by repeating which he is sure to suffer addi- 
tional wrong from their reviews of the case : he 
becomes like a column which having once begun to 
settle upon its treacherous pedestal, is pressed still 
lower, by bringing down upon its capital a mass it 
did not before support. We had better bear in 
silence the wrongs we suffer, than by our groanings 
wake up a tribe of surmisers, who will, in all like- 
lihood, take sides against us. 

When, however, it becomes our duty, as it some- 
times does, to declare what is discreditable to an- 
other, we must strictly limit ourselves to the fact, 
carefully keeping clear of all comments, inferences, 
and opinions. The witness may not assume the task 
of the advocate or of the judge. 

Some have a way of publishing faults in a strain 
of lamentation. They sorely regret that such a one 
did so and so, going on to describe most graphically 
the action that costs them so many sighs. Their 
tones are those of charity, but their intentions — over 
them we throw the cloak of charity. Clemens testi- 
fies of the Corinthian disciples, that they bewailed 
the sins of a brother as if they esteemed his sins 
their own. But these persons neither pity the trans- 
gressor, nor regret the dishonor he has brought upon 
the Christian cause. The Christian is not, indeed, to 
be forbidden to deplore the sins of his fellow-disciple ; 
but when he joins the office of herald to that of mourn- 
er, people are tempted to suspect that he uses the 
voice of wailing only the better to incline their ears to 
his calumnies. A true report concerning a professor 
of religion, and spread from the best of motives, does 

T * 



202 DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 

untold mischief, by enabling the despisers of piety 
to repeat it with the sneering parenthesis, " (to the 
honor of religion be it said.)" When Saul and 
Jonathan fell on the field of Gilboa, David lamented 
the event in numbers, by whose inspiration every 
Christian's tongue should be swayed. " Tell it not 
in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon ; 
lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the 
daughters of the uncircumcised triumph." 

The detractor, strictly so called, is the most com- 
mon and successful destroyer of character. He 
begins, it may be, with a panegyric on the amiable 
and excellent attributes of his victim. He expati- 
ates on his ardent piety, his disinterested benevo- 
lence or his deep humility, but adds that he thinks 
him not scrupulously honest. 19 Another has more 
virtues than he has time to name, but he has cause 
to suspect the motives of certain actions. The life 
of another is marked by uprightness, devotedness, 
and kindness, but there is one passage in his history 
he knows not how to explain; it may be a fact, it 
may be a fable. He hopes that such an awkward 
report concerning his dear brother is not true ; for 
his part he has a higher opinion of him than to 
believe it. He asks our opinion as to the rumor. 
The persons that use this artful sort of deprecia- 
tion, would have us suppose that they are very 

19 This sort of detraction is sometimes carried to a ludicrous pitch. 
" There is a passage in Bede," says Swift, in a letter to Pope, " highly 
commending the piety and learning of the Irish in that age : when, 
after abundance of praises, he overthrows them all by lamenting that 
alas ! they kept Easter at a wrong time of the year. So our Doctor 
Arbuthnot has every quality and virtue that can make a man amiable 
or useful; but alas! he hath a sort of slouch in his walk" 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



203 



candid so to interlard their evil speeches with mor- 
sels of praise. They intend, by relieving their de- 
traction with an occasional compliment, to gain for 
themselves a name for honesty and high-mindedness. 
But their colorable honor and fairness serve but to 
shield themselves, while they are levelling their ar- 
rows at others. And though their detractions may 
not always be prompted by a specific bad design, 
they are, to say the least of them, the communica- 
tions of a heart corrupt by nature and habit. 

There is a generation who, if they do not practise 
the artifice above mentioned, are careful to cover 
their malignity under the guise of defaming others 
in the ears of confidential friends only. They would 
on no account have the thing noised abroad, and 
must bind us to the strictest secresy. But ah, how 
few can hold as a sacred trust what is told them in 
private. The most of us seem to regard such a secret 
as a casket which, though it is committed to our 
keeping, we think we are at liberty to open and show 
its contents to our friends. But we no more desire to 
learn a secret merely to conceal it, than we would de- 
sire a casket for the mere pleasure of keeping it out 
of the hands of thieves. Some people act as if a se- 
cret were a deposit which nobody had a right to 
make, forfeited as to the owner by the very act of 
entrusting it, and which they may dispose of at their 
own option, like smuggled goods which, when found, 
are confiscated for the public good ; others forget 
that secrecy was enjoined, or, if requested, they re- 
collect that they did not bind themselves by an oath, 
and having stolen the narrator's confidence by their 
silence, now betray it by their volubility ; others 



204 DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 

again suspect that the narrator does not wish it to be 
kept totally hid, and have, apparently, good grounds 
for the suspicion ; for they have heard the same se- 
cret from one or two others to whom also he had 
intrusted it. If the original narrator may tell it to 
all his bosom friends, why not each of these to his 
own circle of intimates ? As everybody has acquaint- 
ance who can practise an inviolable reserve, each 
whispers the story in the ears of these till it is known 
in every part of the community, and when, as it 
speedily does, it begins to be a matter of notoriety, 
those whose ears drank it, quickly lift up their voices 
like trumpets, to proclaim their distinction as original 
shareholders in the secret ; and soon all men are bold 
to publish it aloud to all. 

It is in secret that rumors obtain the easiest circu- 
lation. Those that carry along with them a very 
questionable evidence or none at all, gain through 
this medium all the force of truth. Many a story 
which, had it at first been openly asserted, would 
have been promptly denied and suppressed, has, by 
being studiously withheld from discussion, gained an 
extensive currency before it was in the least exam- 
ined, and the person concerned could not detect it 
till it had sprung up suddenly from all quarters, 
when, by reason of the number of those who had 
heard it, disproof and denial were out of the ques- 
tion ; every attempt at refutation was met by a quo- 
tation of the vulgar maxim, that " What everybody 
says must be true." Most confidential matters that 
are whispered in our ears ought to be heard with 
suspicion. It is probable that the narrator is circu- 
lating in secret what he dares not speak in public 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 205 



lest he be charged with falsehood, or with reporting 
a truth of such a nature that it ought not to have 
been divulged. Beneficent truth loves the day, and 
never goes abroad under cover of night, while malev- 
olent truth always walks within the domains of dark- 
ness, and like certain parts of the ancient Pagan 
worship, is kept in great mystery because it is too 
impure to abide the light. 

It is by the arts of derogation that the crafty are 
able to disparage the character of their enemies, and 
inflame jealousy and hatred among mutual friends. 
Pouring into their ears the venom of falsehood, and 
taking every precaution to keep each from openly 
accusing the other till it has poisoned every affection, 
they prepare them for deep and ceaseless enmity to 
each other. In this manner " a whisperer separateth 
chief friends," and, we may add, sets whole commu- 
nities at variance with one another. 

Calumny many times originates in raillery and ex- 
travaganza. Loose-tongued people say the worst 
things of the best men for the sake of raising a laugh 
at the incongruity ; else they invent strange stories 
concerning some distinguished person, and tell them 
to the unsuspecting in order to amuse themselves with 
their credulity. These experiments often turn out 
more serious results than was at first anticipated. 
These sayings are believed and spread till they are 
generally received as true, or till the gay babblers 
who started them are convicted of libel. "As a 
madman who casteth firebrands, arrows, and death, 
so is the man that deceiveth his neighbor, and saith, 
l Am not I in sport V " 

Some persons make their friends confidants only 



206 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



so far as to give them vague hints at a fault, and in- 
timate that they know something of another, which it 
would be improper or inexpedient to divulge. They 
sharpen the appetite of curiosity to such a degree 
that it is driven to seek food among the unreal crea- 
tions of the imagination. In this way they set the 
person aspersed in a worse light than they would if 
they were to blurt out the whole story. A single cir- 
cumstance concealed, or discovered only in part, ex- 
cites a suspicion in the hearer that more than makes 
up the deficiency in the narrative. There is a sort 
of people who will leave one's mind to dark conjec- 
tures as to one's faults, to which they give him a 
slight clue on purpose to make him believe a lie, and 
yet escape the odium of falsehood. They sow sus- 
picion and fear in such broken hints as these : " As 
well, well we know ; — or we could an if we would ; 
or if we list to speak ; or there be an if they 
might." 20 

Not a word of malice or envy or hatred should 
be tolerated in society. When anything of the kind 
intrudes itself into the circle, it should be driven out 
with frowns : u The north wind driveth away rain ; 
so doth an angry countenance a backbiting tongue." 
To answer a detractor with the least show of appro- 
bation, is to encourage him to chill all hearts and to 
put a period to all genial discourse. There are passes 
in the Alps where the guides tell you to move on with 
speed and say nothing, lest the agitation of the air 
caused by your voice loosen the snows above and 
bring them down upon you. Even thus one approv- 
ing word given to a defamer sometimes sets in mo- 
«° Hamlet, Act 1, Sc. y. 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



207 



tion the whole side of some alp which overwhelms 
the company beneath the smothering masses of ill- 
will. 

There is a spirit of fault-finding which it should 
be our care to avoid. Some professors impelled, as 
they feel, by a deep concern for the prosperity of 
the Church, deal out aspersions on their delinquent 
brethren with an unsparing tongue. If the group 
consists of the most zealous members of the church, 
it joins in running down the lukewarm ; if of the 
self-denying and the benevolent, it speaks against 
the ease-seeking and the covetous. Saadi, the Per- 
sian fabulist, gives us an incident in his own history, 
which, though it was intended for the admonition of 
Mahometans, will, perhaps, prove instructive to some 
Christians. "I remember," says he, "that in my 
childhood I was very religious ; I rose in the night, 
was abstinent, and was punctual in the performance 
of my devotions. One night I was sitting in the 
presence of my father with the holy Koran in my 
embrace, not having closed my eyes during the 
whole time, though numbers around me were asleep. 
I said to my father, ' Isot one of these lifteth up his 
head to perform his genuflexions ; but they are all so 
fast asleep you would say they are dead. 5 He re- 
plied ; ' Life of your father, it were better that you 
also were asleep than to be searching out the faults 
of your neighbors.' 55 These complainers would, some 
of them, be excusable were they actuated by a com- 
passionate spirit, but so habituated are they to talk 
of the failings of their fellow-saints, that they do it 
without the slightest touch of pity. Their tongues 
have grown hackneyed on such themes, and their 



208 DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



hearts beat with their wonted regularity through the 
longest tirade against the children of the kingdom. 
Paul felt great sensibility when he called to mind 
the worldliness of certain of his brethren. He al- 
ways spoke of it with increasing regret — " of whom 
I have told you often, and now tell you even weep- 
ing." 

There are numbers who though they think it wrong 
to speak slightly of their equals or inferiors, do not 
scruple to defame their superiors, as clergymen, 
rulers, and candidates for office. One would think 
they had a dispensation to say all manner of evil 
against persons of this description. They pillory 
officers in the church or state, as though they were 
out of the protection of all law, and as though it 
were a sin to be nice in the choice of the epithets 
with which to brand them, or to fail in their treat- 
ment of them to outrage all decency and all mercy. 
How promptly and nobly did Paul apologize for 
having used reproachful language in addressing an 
abusive high priest. One of the charges that Peter 
and Jude bring against the dissolute heathen is, that 
they "speak evil of dignities," a deed which, as they 
declare, the angels themselves dare not do even of 
no better dignitary than Satan. The royal preacher 
goes so far as to forbid us to harbor secret enmity 
against our superiors : " Curse not the king ; no not 
in thy thought : and curse not the rich in thy bed- 
chamber ; for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, 
and that which hath wings shall tell the matter." 

All detractors do not begin with hating the per- 
son they lessen in the estimation of others. They 
wish, it may be, to warn their friends from leading 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL, 



209 



the same life, by pointing out its dangers, or to clear 
themselves of a charge, by showing where the blame 
ought to lie ; but what begins with gold often ends 
with clay. It is an inclination of the human heart 
to hate those whom it has injured. This maxim, 
which modern poets and historians have claimed as 
their own, was, in substance at least, first taught by 
the Holy Spirit. Solomon says, " A lying tongue 
hateth those that are afflicted by it." Even when 
any one reports what is true, if he knows he has done 
it imprudently as to manner, or uncharitably as to 
motive, or, at any rate, to the unnecessary injury of 
another, he can hardly help regarding the injured 
person with unhappy feelings. Self-accusation fol- 
lows every recollection of the person concerning 
whom he has so spoken, and he no longer finds pleas- 
ure in the company of one, the very sight of whom 
brings to mind the wrong he has done him. 

Hitherto we have been mainly attending to the 
subject of detraction. It will not be amiss to add a 
few remarks concerning scandal, which frequently 
originates in detraction, or rather, is but detraction 
circulated abroad. 

The vice of scandal appears to have its source, 
partly in the love of falsehood, which is natural to 
man, and partly in a vain desire of being esteemed 
all-knowing, which leads him to pretend to informa- 
tion he does not possess. This original proneness to 
defamation is helped forward by a regulation of so- 
ciety, which, at first sight, appears as if it would check 
it. We allude to the tacit agreement that whatever 
passes between friends in the conversazione, is not 
to be repeated elsewhere. This rule is of ancient 



210 DETE ACT ION AND SCANDAL. 

origin. Lycurgus ordered that when the Spartans 
sat down at their public tables, the oldest man pre- 
sent pointing to the door should say, "Not one word 
spoken here goes out there." The Romans of the 
better class adopted this usage, with some modifica- 
tions. Horace, in inviting Torquatus to sup with him, 
assures him that it shall be his care, that among the 
trusty friends invited, there may be no one who will 
turn their words out of doors. 21 Whether, however, 
as is commonly supposed, the mutual understanding 
is, that such conversations are to be sub rosa, pre- 
vents scandal, may well be doubted. He who ex- 
pects that what he says is to be confidential, gives a 
loose to his tongue, and allows it to range on forbid- 
den ground, since he has no fears of being brought 
to answer for words he has there spoken amiss. If, 
on the contrary, he knows that which he says in 
secret will be proclaimed upon the house-tops, he 
will take good heed to keep clear of misrepresenta- 
tion. When such confidence is clearly understood 
to be reposed, or secresy is expressly enjoined, the 
odium that attends a betrayal of it generally serves 
to tempt people to circulate calumnies all the more 
widely in a private way, and so prevent the arrest 
and exposure of the calumniator. But this usage is 
not, and never has been sacredly observed by all 
who frequent the best companies, and if it were, it 
would be far from preventing scandal within the 
limits of those companies ; so that our wisdom is, 
never to say anything in the hearing of our nearest 
friend that can be tortured into scandal, or if so tor- 

2 1 - - - - ne fidos inter amicos 
Sit qui foras eliminet. Epis. 5, lib. 1. 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 211 

tured, can injure any one's reputation, or do any 
other possible damage. 

Were such a rule strictly practicable, it would, it 
must be owned, effect one desirable end. It would 
hinder the spread of facts that are prejudicial to the 
character of another. If we tell a plain and strict 
verity that is derogatory to any one, the hearer is 
exceedingly apt, in attempting to repeat it, to make 
an untruth of it, either from carelessness, forgetful- 
ness, ill-will, or a lying spirit. Unfavorable personal 
accounts are almost always exaggerated for the 
worse, while favorable ones are very seldom exag- 
gerated for the better. We have heard many a good 
deed rumored, without acquiring additional lustre, 
but have known murders, as foul and cold-blooded 
as they well could be, made more so by common 
fame. Were an account to reach my ears reflecting 
on the character of Antichrist himself, if it had no 
better authority than hearsay, I would not believe it. 

Having said thus much of evil speaking, let us 
now touch upon that greatly-neglected subject, evil 
hearing. We should refuse not only to repeat a fault 
that is discreditable to our neighbor, but even to 
hear another relate it. He who willingly listens to 
evil speaking must be, and commonly is, set down as 
accessory. The Psalmist David regards it as one 
qualification of the man who would abide in the 
tabernacle of the Lord, that he should not receive a 
reproach against his neighbor; and he expostulates 
with Saul for a similar offence : " Saul, wherefore 
hearest thou men's words, saying ; ' Behold he seek- 
eth thy hurt.' " A statute of Yalentinian and of 
Valens made it death, not only to write a libel, but 



212 



DETKAGTI ON AND SCANDAL. 



not to tear and burn one that might be found. At 
the judgment, he that heareth and he that maketh a 
lie will stand on the same footing. Not only before 
God, but also before the victim of scandal, are the 
narrator and the approving hearer of it arraigned 
for the same crime. When the Injured party learns 
that he listened to the calumny without showing any 
signs of displeasure, even though he should not noise 
it abroad, he cannot look upon such behavior as 
prompted by a principle of kindness. By listening 
to evil speaking one not only injures another's char- 
acter, but demoralizes his own mind. The habit of 
lending the ear to it, nurtures a malevolent disposi- 
tion. Sir Peter Lely made it a rule never to look at 
a bad picture, having found by experience that 
whenever he did so, his pencil took a tint from it. 
If we allow ourselves to look at every caricature of 
a human creature that a malignant hand draws 
and passes round the circles of society, we must 
have tempers singularly happy if our own accounts 
of others do not borrow some of the deformities 
which have been exhibited to us. 

When, however, we are forced to hear scandal— 
and hear it we sometimes must — let us conceal the in- 
formation obtruded upon us. When asked whether 
we have heard what is reported concerning Mr., 
Mrs., or Miss Such-a-one, let us abruptly change the 
subject of conversation, or call to mind another en- 
gagement, and take leave. If we cannot honestly 
make good our escape in this direction, let us reply, 
as the case may be, that we must be excused from 
carrying the rumor any further, that we regret hav- 
ing heard a word about the affair, and with their 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



213 



leave would prefer to say nothing on the subject ; 
or, that since we have not all the facts of the case, 
we can offer no opinion as to it. Some similar an- 
swers would in substance be dictated by that charity 
which " rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the 
truth." There are those who listen to each latest false 
report with demonstrations of joy, put on knowing 
airs, are positive that they have an authentic account 
of the matter, and straightway set off with the speed 
of an Ahimaaz, to carry it to their acquaintance. 

When we are compelled, not only to hear, but 
to believe a report disreputable to another, it is a 
good rule to ascribe the misdeed to a good motive, 
until it is found to proceed from a bad one, — dwell- 
ing on the extenuating side, suggesting that we 
have grounds for humble gratitude to Almighty 
God for keeping us from committing the same sin — 
that but for Divine grace we might be as criminal 
as others, or that we should look upon it as a warn- 
ing against the like temptation ; or that he who 
knows his own heart will not severely censure, though 
he must condemn such conduct. Bad as the human 
heart is, some offences may be actuated more by a 
habit of evil doing than from a long-meditated pur- 
pose. Defective notions of right, ignorance, and 
even mistaken kindness, sometimes give a milder 
hue to sin than they could otherwise take. Many 
who are thought to wear a cloak of hypocrisy, 
have only a veil upon their hearts ; they do not 
intend to deceive others, but are only deceiving 
themselves. We would not be understood to offer 
an apology for sin of any name or degree ; we only 
commend charitableness in making up our minds as 



214 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



to actions the motives of which we cannot fully dis- 
cern. It is likewise the part of every right-minded 
man to volunteer his services, not only as the apolo- 
gist, but also as the advocate, on behalf of an absent 
person who is spoken against. It is but common 
justice that the criminal should be allowed some 
one to plead his cause, especially when he is neither 
present nor informed of his trial. One of the prohi- 
bitions of the moral law is, " Thou shalt not curse 
the deaf to which we may add, When thou hear- 
est the deaf defamed, ears be thou to him. 

The professed scandal-bearer is never seen except 
as an apparition. Most defamers suppose them- 
selves the furthest possible from such a character. 
They are in the common mistake of thinking that a 
person must maliciously and industriously report 
falsehoods among all their acquaintance, in order to 
be deservedly branded with the name ; not consider- 
ing that every individual who with no evil design tells 
a true but injurious account to only one of his friends, 
is a tale-bearer of the common class. Let each one 
carry a report but a single remove further from its 
originator than it was before, and enough has been 
done to send it all abroad. Yet because he is but a 
single link in the chain of scandal, he absolves him- 
self of all the blame of its transmission from one end 
of the chain to the other. 

Neither does he consider that scandal continually 
gathers new matter as it rolls. The originator only 
suspects Mr. Such-a-one has done the deed, or hopes 
he did it not ; the second person believes it, or thinks 
it w r ould be in keeping with his known character to 
do it ; a third has no doubt about it ; a fourth offers to 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 215 

make oath that he is worse than at first suspected. 
Thus does it go on increasing both in enormity and 
credibility. The apostle James exclaims, " Behold 
how great a matter a little fire kindleth ! The 
tongue is a fire, and setteth on fire the whole course 
of nature, and is set on fire of helL" He would 
seem to liken the moral operations of scandal to 
stars on fire tossing flames to their fellows, till the 
whole universe is wrapped in a conflagration ; and 
that, too, kindled by no extinguishable fire, but by 
the unquenchable fire of hell. A report may be 
only a spark and soon go out, being proved false or 
having answered the design of the originator. But 
before the spark expires, it kindles a fire of demor- 
alizing influence, which will spread in all coming 
time, and a fire of guilt in multitudes of immortal 
spirits, where it will rage unchecked through an 
endless future. 

The shafts of the calumniator often miss their 
mark, and are shot back on the assailant with deadly 
effect. He may expect some returns in kind — in 
kind do I say ? not always, for he secretly shoots his 
arrows at the innocent, whereas those whom he 
wounds are able to draw their arrows from the quiver 
of truth, and send them to his guilty heart, flashing 
along their course through the light of day. Every 
real failing of the calumniator — and the calumniator 
must have many — is proclaimed in triumph. ISTo 
one feels it a duty to give any quarter to so pestilent 
a creature. All set themselves to detect in him the 
sins he lays to the charge of others, and cannot but 
observe how fitly the epithets he applies to others ap- 
ply to himself. He never so much as suspects that, 



216 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



while he is taking a wicked pleasure in dissecting 
his victim, the attention of some in the listening cir- 
cle is fixed upon his own depravity. For my part I 
must own that of all the vituperative talkers I have 
ever heard, who did their best to make their victims 
appear odious to me, I have never met with one who 
was able, with all his volubility, to prove others to 
be half so bad as himself. 

How graphic is that declaration of the Psalmist 
concerning wicked talkers : " Their throat is an open 
sepulchre." When an oriental sepulchre is opened, 
it pours forth an intolerable odor ; and if it is neglect- 
ed, it becomes at length the common shelter of every 
beggar, demoniac, beast, or reptile, that chances that 
way. 

Evil speaking is the occupation of the ignorant, 
who, having nothing else to talk about, bring for- 
ward the imperfections of their fellow worms ; and 
of idlers also, who, as they are commonly great talk- 
ers, and of course soon exhausting every lawful 
theme, must feed their loquacity with the reputations 
of their neighbors. When a conscientious man has 
cast about him for an innocent or profitable topic in 
vain, he holds his peace. Like the diluvian dove, 
after having flown abroad over the shoreless waters, 
and found nothing but carcasses whereon to perch, he 
stretches his wings towards the ark. He had rather 
be thought taciturn and haughty, than prey upon the 
vices of mankind. The common opinion that women 
are more addicted to this vice than men, is not with- 
out some foundation ; the Romans set up in the 
forum the statue of a lioness without a tongue, in 
memory of a woman who had been distinguished for 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



217 



reserve. From the epistles of Paul it appears that 
the unmarried women of his times were given to idle- 
ness and gossiping. " They learn," says he, "to be 
idle, wandering about from house to house ; and not 
only idle, but busy-bodies, speaking things which 
they ought not." He would have pious young wid- 
ows return to the perils and cares of the marriage 
condition to prevent their becoming mischief-makers, 
and that, too, in a persecuting age when married 
disciples were especially exposed to domestic afflic- 
tion. The apostle ? s admonition was not intended for 
his own age alone ; it was meant for our age as well. 
The curse of multitudes of modern women in every 
class of society is idleness, which, coupled as it ever 
must be with ignorance, brings them into frequent 
conference, in which they retail personal news, and 
offer their speculations upon it. But as we cannot 
hope that many females of this character will take 
the trouble to read these pages, we drop the subject ; 
only adding, by way of counsel to any gossip whose 
vacant eye chances to fail on these words : Find 
some profitable occupation for your mind. We do 
not offer this advice as the best that can be given, 
but merely as the best she is at present prepared to 
receive. 

It is sometimes best to silence a detractor by turn- 
ing his own weapons against him, pleasantly observ- 
ing that we shall expect him to keep himself inno- 
cent of the fault he so much dislikes in another, or 
something of this sort. When a lad once addressed 
Pope Eugenio IY. a speech which, for gravity and 
wisdom, much exceeded his years, Cardinal Ange- 
lotto, who was very fond of taking something from 

K 



218 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



every merit, hearing the audience praise the oration, 
said : "It is common for young persons who are en- 
dowed with premature talents to fall into early decay 
of parts." "Then, my lord Cardinal," replied the 
lad, " you must have had very extraordinary talents 
when you were young." 

A pure imagination is a faculty in which detract- 
ors are wanting, most prodigiously wanting. This 
faculty is as important to the conversationist as it is 
to the historian. When a person quotes a remark 
of another, or speaks of his conduct, the hearer who 
would judge impartially, must have the power to 
transport himself to the spot where the report origin- 
ated. A foul imagination is barren of everything 
but the criminating idea, while a well-purged im- 
agination delights in beautifying every event with its 
circumstances, and thus tells more truth than the 
half-facts of your flat-headed maligners. 

Ridicule may amount to detraction, and often 
does. Its wont is to skip over the virtues and abili- 
ties of a man, and pounce upon his imperfections 
and infirmities. Nay, but is it not the end of ridi- 
cule to laugh us out of vice or folly? Would it 
always were. We are afraid it has laughed a good 
many out of virtue and wisdom — not merely out of 
reputation for these qualities, but out of the qualities 
themselves. 

We have somewhere met the remark, that the most 
rigid code of morality might be compiled from 
what we expect others to say and do regarding our- 
selves; and, on the other hand, the most lax of all 
possible laws of virtue would be supplied by putting 
into a system the palliations and excuses which we 



DETRACTION AND SCANDAL. 



219 



make for our own deficiences in speech and conduct 
towards others. 

Thrice and nine times happy they who always feel 
such an inward good-will to their kind, as makes it 
needless to set a watch upon their lips. These are 
they whose goodness of heart renders circumspection 
a sheer superfluity — a very standing army in time of 
peace. If some people forbear evil speaking, it 
seems to be more from prudence and caution than 
from any compassion for the person spared. The 
sepulchre is locked, because a carcass is within. 
This sort of gentry have an excellent ear for scandal, 
and are the sole abettors of those who, in this way, 
break the peace of society. It is a wonder, that of 
the great cloud of preachers that have made their 
moan over the sin of evil speaking, so few have la- 
mented the sin of evil hearing. It is time we had 
all made up our minds not to listen to a story that is 
not to the advantage of the person of whom it is re- 
lated. 



CHAPTEK XII. 



INTERROGATIONS . 

The questioner, like the rack, serves for the de- 
struction of an innocent person who has a feeble con- 
stitution, and for the deliverance of a criminal who 
is naturally robust. Some people put one to the tor- 
ture by their searching queries ; if he has a brazen 
face and supple address, possibly they may not pre- 
vent his keeping his own matters to himself; but if he 
is ingenuous, or has a babbling countenance, they 
will rummage all his personal affairs, and leave him 
with scarce a thought he can call his own. If he 
attempts to conceal his mind by closing his lips, they 
discover it through the eye, the blush, or the mien. 
And the more meek he is, the more must he suffer ; 
for as he does not complain of the cruelties of the 
inquisition, his tormentors are not softened by any 
touches of compassion. 

Forasmuch as practical Christians are sometimes 
accused of impertinence, they should aim to keep 
clear of just grounds for the imputation by a moder- 
ate use of interrogations, in their expostulations with 
unbelievers. There are, to be sure, multitudes who 
are not nettled by inquiries as to their moral and re- 
ligious principles, and verily, men of the world ought 
to account such questionings as the strongest possible 



INTERROGATIONS. 



221 



expressions of good will. They are not displeased 
with those who inquire after their temporal pros- 
perity ; why then should they be so with those who 
express a kind concern for their .eternal well-being ? 
Most of those who put on airs of surprise when they 
are thus interrogated, are the votaries of fashion and 
pleasure, and persons of superlative effeminacy. 
Without questioning such, we may take for granted 
that they are of this or that character, and address 
them accordingly. If we mistake their principles, 
they will generally set us right. 

To question us, is the privilege of a superior or 
equal, rather than of an inferior ; though the latter 
may oftentimes beg the liberty to do so. It is 
proper for a king to interrogate his subjects, but eti- 
quette forbids them to question him. The child or 
the pupil is allowed to question his parent or his 
instructor, when the question indicates a laudable 
desire for information. Members of the learned pro- 
fessions may be as inquisitive as they please, so they 
do not go beyond their vocation. It is so much their 
business to interrogate, that they are peculiarly liable 
to form a habit of pumping every body on all sub- 
jects indiscriminately. A question that springs from 
contempt or superciliousness, is improper, come from 
whom it may. 

The Abbe Delille is of the opinion that a friend 
alone has a right to interrogate.* 8 Though we can- 

O C" o 

not agree with this high authority in holding that 

22 Questionne toujours, et rarement ccoute 
Oubliant que ce ton leger 
Dans do estrauger est blaraable 
Et que l'amitie seule a droit d'interroger. 



222 



INTERROGATIONS. 



this is the exclusive privilege of friendship, we must 
admit that fast friends and intimate acquaintance 
may question another more freely than others ; but 
at the same time it should be considered that even 
friends and familiars are capable of being impatient 
under oft-repeated and irrelevant queries. 

It is not proper to ask strangers questions about 
themselves or their affairs. Inasmuch as we must, 
after all, be very ignorant of their history, if we once 
begin there is no telling where we shall end. It is 
expected that a stranger will, without solicitation, 
tell us all that is proper for us to know concerning 
himself. Should he chance to be a person whose 
fame ought to have reached us beforehand, our ques- 
tions would be most inopportune. There are enlight- 
ened people who might learn something on this point 
from the savages of the West. When a stranger 
visits their villages no one asks his business, and he 
is allowed his own time to tell the object of his mis- 
sion. We should never ask a stranger what is his 
vocation, or that of any of his relatives and friends. 

The tribe of indiscreet and careless questioners is 
a very numerous one. Many bolt out the first query 
that happens to be uppermost, without considering 
whether it is suitable to the person, time or place. 
The behavior of others may excite our curiosity or 
surprise when it would be intrusive to inquire about 
it, as for instance to ask people where they are going, 
or what they hold in their hands. When iEsop re- 
plied to one who asked him what he was doing with 
a lighted candle by day, " I seek a man," some have 
supposed that he intended to signify that men are 
scarce in the world. Phsedrus, the fabulist, says 



INTERROGATIONS. 



223 



he meant to intimate to the inquirer that it is un- 
manly to ask impertinent questions. Dr. Johnson 
once handled such a querist in his usual gruff man- 
ner. A gentleman asked him ; " Have you been 
abroad to-day ?" " Don't talk so childishly, sir," he 
replied, "you may as well ask if I had hanged my- 
self." 

Others betake themselves to interrogations as a 
kind of apology for their indolence. Unwilling to 
think or to consult books, they ask your opinion of a 
subject or beg of you a little item of information, 
like mendicants gathering their daily meals from the 
crumbs given at their neighbor's doors. Else, per- 
haps, they are persons of sluggish minds or little 
knowledge, and desire to be amused, and try to start 
you off upon an entertaining theme by spurring you 
with a thousand questions in slow succession. 

Others again ask questions from vanity. By an 
artful construction of their questions they would 
have us know that they are men of genius, or wis- 
dom, or learning, or they would convict us of folly, 
or ignorance, or stupidity. It is hardly in the power 
of poor human nature to receive such questions with 
thankfulness. We cannot wonder that the Athen- 
ians should have contracted a mortal animosity to- 
wards Socrates, when we consider that the philoso- 
pher went about among them to convince them of 
their ignorance and of his knowledge of his own ig- 
norance. A modest question is betimes a good ve- 
hicle for conveying information or our opinion to 
those who would be offended with a dogmatical as- 
sertion. It may also be aptly used to assist the 
memory of others. 



224 



INTERROGATIONS. 



Those who ask questions on purpose to make a 
show of their talents or knowledge, are not to be 
numbered among those who honestly ask for infor- 
mation. Querists of this description deserve to be, 
and generally are, answered with respect. A great 
many live and die in the grossest ignorance for no 
other reason than that they deem it beneath their 
dignity to ask for information. When some one 
asked John Locke how he had contrived to acquire 
his multifarious knowledge, he replied : " By con- 
descending to ask questions." It is a mark of affa- 
bility to solicit instruction from those who have less 
general learning and culture, but a better practical 
knowledge of some matters than we. Tet it were 
unwise uniformly to suggest to people their business 
as matter of discourse. If we do, they suspect that 
we think them ignorant of everything else. When 
we wish information from a professional man, artisan, 
or man of business, we should go to his office ; at 
any rate, seek some private interview. But in par- 
ties, men are to be talked with as if they had always 
lived as idle as the lilies of the field, or at least as 
those who have for the time, laid aside the habits and 
thoughts which are peculiar to their calling. By 
dragging back their thoughts to the round of daily toil 
we run the risk of beclouding their cheerfulness, and 
if we mention their vocation within ear-shot of stran- 
gers, we may expose them to mortification, or make 
them more conspicuous than their modesty approves. 
Still, however, many persons of limited knowledge 
wisely prefer to talk on subjects with which they are 
thoroughly acquainted ; and if their ideas cluster 
around their daily duties — -which is no great crime 



INTERROGATIONS. 



225 



surely— they ought to be allowed to contribute some- 
thing to their own entertainment. If they clo as 
much as this, they will not fall below the average, 
who talk more for their individual amusement than 
for any other purpose. 

Some absent-minded people have a habit of asking 
questions without staying for an answer ; or if they 
do stay, their inattention shows that they make no 
account of it. Others edge in questions so trivial as 
not to admit of a serious reply, or so remote from the 
matter in hand as to indicate how far the mind of the 
questioner has been wandering during our remarks. 
Few are adepts in the art of bringing in a respectful 
and relevant question. An interrogation may some- 
times be a happy substitute for an expression of as- 
sent, or show that we take a lively interest in the 
conversation. 

Ingenuous people are never too inquisitive with 
their eyes and ears ; they do not glance, and ogle, 
and leer with nice and crafty sagacity ; they are 
not akin to those persons who retire a little from the 
talkative circle with seeming bashfulness, that their 
ears may stealthily take in, and lay up every un- 
timely word. Their vicinity oppresses and embar- 
rasses one. We are, to be sure, counselled to be 
swift to hear, and slow to speak, but must we then go 
into company in the quality of eave-droppers and 
spies ? The sharp-sighted and the quick-eared do not 
acquaint themselves with characters quite so readily 
as they imagine ; being ever suspected, they discover 
next to nothing. Common patience and attention 
will put us in possession of all that is worth knowing 
of human nature. Most people, if we but give them 

K* 



226 



INTERROGATIONS. 



time, will, unasked, tell us everything that is credit- 
able to themselves : they do not need to be incited 
to speak in their own praise, and questions are not 
likely to wring from them a confession of their faults. 
Their vices may not concern us ; if they do, we shall 
learn them by inclining our ear a little while to their 
self-laudations : those who can praise themselves 
are not too nice to boast of their vices. 

TJncourteous as it is to ask many unnecessary ques- 
tions, it is more uncourteous to take umbrage at them. 
It is unworthy of a man to fly into a passion because 
a stranger, who has lost his way, is forced to ask sev- 
eral questions in order to learn his whereabouts and 
whither he should turn his steps, or because some one 
has mind enough to wish a little definite knowledge 
of a subject which others are vaguely talking about. 
There are plenty of people who discourse with wonder- 
ful confidence on almost all questions, and yet think 
the man very shallow who asks them to explain a 
point which he confesses he does not understand, 
and which in fact they do not themselves under- 
stand, but have not sagacity enough to discover their 
own ignorance of it. It would take a great many 
questions, and them very uncivilly asked, to fluster 
a true Christian gentleman, or to leave such an im- 
pression on his memory as to move him afterwards to 
complain daintily of the impertinences he has suffered. 
It is a rudeness, all the world over, to snarl at the rude- 
ness of others. The real man of honor will treat ef- 
frontery with magnanimous indifference, as the Em- 
peror Theodosius did those who cursed him. "If," said 
he, " it be uttered in levity, it is to be despised ; if in 
madness, to be pitied ; if in malice, to be forgiven." 



CHAPTEE XIII. 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 

A modern popular writer, describing the attributes 
of a gentleman, goes out of his way to say that self- 
illustration distinguishes modern professors of re- 
ligion, and seems all but inseparably connected with 
the Christian character. This assertion has been 
quoted with admiration by other writers, and has 
been extensively read. It is too contemptuous to be 
quoted literally, and too glaringly untrue to need a 
labored refutation. 

Every evangelized man must be less proud and 
vain than he was in the days of his impenitence. 
Whoever has witnessed the encounters of grace and 
truth with original pride, could not have failed to 
observe how strongly it is intrenched in the soul, and 
what lowliness follows its subjugation. The Chris- 
tian enters the Church, forswearing allegiance to the 
prince of this world — confessing that his loyalty to 
him was the result of his own corruption and folly — 
performing an act of humiliation in his baptism, 
avowing that henceforth his soul and body, and all 
his possessions and services belong to Another. He 
forsakes his own wisdom, and gives himself up to a 
Divine Director; he laments the imperfection that 
yet remains in his heart in spite of renewing and 



228 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



sanctifying grace. If he talks often and earnestly of 
religious subjects, it is to magnify the Power that 
saves him, and to ascribe all his virtues to His un- 
merited gifts. If he is better than his neighbor, it is 
because his earthly nature has partaken of the Divine 
nature. " One day," says Saadi, the Persian fabu- 
list, " a friend of mine put into my hand a piece of 
scented clay. I took it, and said to it, 6 Art thou 
musk or ambergris ? for I am charmed with thy per- 
fume.' It answered, ' I was once a despicable piece 
of clay; but I was some time in the company of the 
rose, and the quality of my sweet companion was 
communicated to me ; otherwise I should only be a 
bit of clay as I appear to be.' " 23 Of this spirit is 
always and everywhere the confession of the Chris- 
tian. The virtues others ascribe to him, he traces, 
not to his own nature, not to his own exertions, but 
to the companionship of the Holy Ghost. In the 
words of Paul, he says, "By the grace of God I am 
what I am." If this be y self-praise, let not a single 
human being be guiltless of it — no, not one. 

That there is no vanity to be found among Chris- 
tians, they are themselves ever ready to deny ; that 
there is less of it among them than among people 
of the world must be, if they are at all actuated by 
the humbling principles that are peculiar to their 
religion. Even where they manifest any disposi- 
tion to self-glozing, the things on which they value 
themselves are' intrinsically excellent, and are supe- 
rior to the qualities which the world is accustomed 
to make its boast. There is more of virtue in this 
fault of the Christian, than in the best qualities of 

23 Gulistan or Rose Garden, by Saadi 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



229 



the man of the world. " The gleaning of the grapes 
of Ephraim, is better than the vintage of Abiezer." 

We cannot with strict propriety speak of ourselves, 
except when we relate simple matters of fact, with- 
out exaggeration or ostentation. When the fact 
stated reflects credit upon ourselves, neither our 
motive nor our manner can entirely save us from 
being suspected of vanity. u The accuser of the 
brethren" will never lack a pretext for plying the 
scourge of the tongue. The Christian is sometimes 
accused of egotism in describing what he has done 
instrumentally for the enlargement of the church, 
and the evangelization of the world. When duty 
calls on us to speak of the achievements of grace in 
connection with our own labors or charities, w T e can- 
not speak with too much modesty of the part we bore 
in the work. And in relating our religious experience 
we are to exercise especial caution. "Be ready," 
says Peter, " always to give an answer to every one 
who asketh you a reason of the hojDe that is in you, 
with meekness and fear." It is worth remarking, 
that the sacred writer directs us to give an answer 
to those who ask us concerning our hope. It is not 
wise to obtrude our frames upon the attention of 
unconverted men. We should not lay open our 
holy experiences to those who manifest no serious 
interest in such matters. And, as we remarked in a 
former chapter, we are to do this duty in a spirit of 
meekness and reverence — not in a pragmatical way — 
not citing our own experience as an undeniable fact in 
support of our assertions — not with an air of superi- 
ority or triumph over the unconverted enquirer. We 
are also counselled to handle the subject with rever- 



230 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



ence. Some professors are sadly remiss in this par- 
ticular. They prattle of the Divine Spirit, regenera- 
tion, faith, and hope, in a bold or familiar tone, 
without awe, or humility, or contrition, or any feel- 
ing of the kind. Many are driven to this extreme 
in the attempt to show the error of those who stand 
at such a reverent distance from Christianity as to 
lose sight of her altogether, and regard the Lord 
Jesus in much the same light as Epicurus did the 
gods of the heathen- — as deserving our reverence, 
indeed, but as quite above having anything to do 
with the affairs of mortals. True veneration is so 
far from concealing its object, that by a sort of self- 
annihilation, it makes it sublimely conspicuous. As 
subjects pay the lowliest homage to their king when 
they are in the royal presence, so those reverence 
God most profoundly who habitually feel the con- 
viction of His presence ; and they never do more to 
bring the thoughts of God into his own world, than 
when they speak of and worship Him with holy and 
humble awe. 

But it is more to the present purpose to remark 
that there is a case where in speaking of ourselves it 
is allowable to go beyond strict narration and em- 
ploy argument ; it is in self-vindication. If we are 
known never to speak in our own defence but when 
we are driven to it, we shall not be suspected of 
vanity. When Paul is maligned by false teachers 
at Corinth, who have drawn after them some of his 
converts, he comes reluctantly to his own defence, 
and by way of apology for doing so, says, "I am 
become a fool in glorying ; ye have compelled me : 
for I ought to have been commended of you." We 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 231 



should see to it that we do not defend ourselves with 
too much spirit. People suspect that he must have 
a vulnerable part, who makes too vigorous a resist- 
ance. It were better to make a calm and uncon- 
cerned statement of our claim to the confidence of 
others, with a very brief denial of the charges of 
our adversary. 

We should not seek a reputation for humility by 
always daintily avoiding the pronoun I, The writers 
of Port Royal were so disgusted with the common 
practice among authors of speaking in the first per- 
son, that they uniformly shunned it as savoring of 
self conceit. But it may be questioned whether here 
as elsewhere, those excellent men did not somewhat 
overstrain the law of Christian lowliness. Pascal, the 
greatest of them, in some of his sublimest records of 
his own contrite experience and Christian hope, and 
heroic independence of the Vatican, uses, in forget- 
fulness of the maxim, the obnoxious I ; and yet the 
word neither betrays pride nor assumption. The 
substitution of another and circuitous and impersonal 
phrase would destroy the verisimilitude, dignity, 
and point of the remarks. It is to his fragmentary 
" Thoughts" that we refer. It is not, then, the use of 
this part of speech which makes a man an egotist, 
but the feeling which prompts its utterance, as indi- 
cated by the connection and the tone. It is not im- 
possible to covet the name of humility at the expense 
of almost every virtue. One may have such a horror 
of pride as to make him omit many duties, and to 
make him remiss in many more. A false humility, 
or in the world's parlance a false modesty, is as crim- 
inal and offensive as pride : for it is but pride in 



232 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



disguise. Pride need not prompt the frequent use 
of this pronoun : on the other hand, egotism in the 
first degree is often perpetrated where there is a 
careful avoidance of it ; and in general, he who 
makes a show of great pains to keep aloof from a 
fault, does thereby declare that he knows himself to 
be addicted to it. Some of the vainest of mortals 
are often heard to say, " without boasting," — " I do 
not like to praise myself," — " Pardon me for speak- 
ing of myself." Again, there are very humble cha- 
racters, who never use this kind of apologetical 
phrases. Let us beware of words ; nothing is more 
common than to be misled by them. 

Egotism consists in needlessly and voluntarily ob- 
truding one's self or affairs on the attention of others. 
Nothing is more difficult than to determine whether 
a person is an egotist on the whole, for he may be 
very egotistical as to one thing and very humble as to 
another. The egotist does not always eulogize him- 
self directly. He may make you his father-confessor, 
and acknowledge to you a fault or habit that is ex- 
ceedingly dishonorable to him — " he cannot help it ; 
it is his way." Perhaps he has resolved at all haz- 
ards to take a prominent part in conversation ; even 
though it be at the expense of his character and the 
comfort of the company. Else he talks of his faults 
in order to demonstrate his sincerity or some other 
virtue. u He is none of your dissemblers : he must 
tell you all." Another confesses his crimes on pur- 
pose to show us his shrewdness, tact or courage in 
committing them, in escaping detection or punish- 
ment ; or the generosity or high-mindedness with 
which he made amends for them ; thus does he 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



233 



glory in his shame. Vainglory is to be expected 
from the ignorant, who rarely allow their minds to 
be transported beyond themselves. If we forbid 
them to descant on that all-absorbing theme — them- 
selves, we seal their lips ; but- there is less apology 
for those whose intelligence ought to have taught 
them, at least, the appearance of humility, and who 
have matter for impersonal discourse. On a subject 
in which others cannot bear a part, our words should 
be few — one's self is a subject of this description. 
Yet there are multitudes w T ho talk incessantly about 
themselves whether anybody gives ear or not, and 
keep up as much of a soliloquy as if they were in 
solitude — nay more of one ; for solitude might give 
back an echo, but their company returns none. We 
can say a great deal about ourselves if we once 
fairly set out, yet it is a topic on which it would be 
difficult for another to speak, even did we give him 
a chance. Our talk must therefore necessarily de- 
generate into monologue, and when it has come to 
this, we may as well bid our listeners good night, 
for they must needs have grown sleepy. It might 
be said of the subject of self what the epicure said 
of the haunch of venison, u It is too much for one, 
yet not enough for two." 

Almost every circle is blessed with the egotist, who 
exercises a kind of dictatorship over it. Are you in 
a mistake as to a matter of fact ? He cannot suffer 
you to proceed till you are corrected. Have you a 
word on the end of your tongue ? He at once comes 
to your relief. Do you talk bad grammar ? He 
quotes rules and gives examples like a pedagogue. 
Does he discover that there is a link wanting in the 



234 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



chain of your argument ? He bids you stay till lie 
has supplied it. Do you drop a word to which he 
has devoted much research ? He asks you whether 
you know its primitive signification, and straightway 
inflicts on the circle a long philological disquisition. 
When you relate an incident which you suppose new 
and affecting, your friend listens without emotion. 
When you have done, he observes that he heard the 
same, long ago, and adds a very material circum- 
stance which you omitted. He is never taken by 
surprise, and it is impossible to give him any infor- 
mation. And yet he never takes the lead in conver- 
sation, nor advances an original thought. It is his 
business to come after and pick up the words which 
others let slip in a running talk, or to check their 
impetuosity that he may point out to them their mis- 
steps. Had he lived in the days of Solomon, he would 
have flattered the royal sage with the intimation that 
some of his proverbs were but plagiarisms ; or, had 
he been a contemporary of Solomon's father, would 
have felt himself bound to give the slayer of Goliath 
some lessons on the use of the sling, and hinted to 
the Sweet Singer of Israel his private opinion, that 
the shepherd bard did not perfectly understand the 
use of the harp. 

It is egotistical to be perpetually talking about 
one's relatives, or friends, or associates. The com- 
mon run of fathers and mothers have an abundance 
of stories to tell of the exploits and speeches of their 
dear children, which, entertaining as they may be to 
themselves, must necessarily be tedious to every 
body else, or redolent of the nursery, and savoring 
strongly of pinafores. 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



235 



Others speak largely of their former youthful ac- 
quaintance with literature and science, now drifted 
away into oblivion so entirely as to have left no 
traces on their style of thinking or talking; and 
which remind one of the gentleman who boasted be- 
fore Johnson of the knowledge he once had of Greek, 
though now lost. "Lost," said the stern moralist, 
" in the same year, probably, when I lost my great 
estates in Gloucestershire." 

Others talk of their relatives in a strain of lamen- 
tation, or of deprecation. There is a great deal of 
sly satire in the conduct of that prince of travellers, 
Capt. Lemuel Gulliver, on his return from Bobding- 
nag, the land of giants. He now thought the sailors 
of his own country the most contemptible creatures 
he ever beheld. He looked upwards, and spoke to 
his own family in a very high tone, and regarded 
them as mere pigmies. It would be well for every 
traveller to read Swift's book immediately on his re- 
turn home, or at least before he sends the journal of 
his adventures to his publisher. We could here, if 
we so pleased, be more than usually tedious in enu- 
merating the many advantages which he might count 
upon deriving from such perusal. But he must par- 
don us if we relieve his patience by cutting the mat- 
ter short; only adding, that some men are formed to 
become by travel like telescopes. They are pulled 
out to the most extraordinary proportions ; and it 
takes the rest, it may be, of their lives, for their old 
neighbors to succeed in shutting up the elongated 
worthy into his narrow and natural dimensions. 34 

2* The conversation of the intelligent, observing, and well-bred trav- 
eller is delightful. He harbors no narrow prejudices in favor of hia 



236 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



There are two sorts of egotists, who are fond of im- 
pressing you with the high rank they hold in society. 
The one tells you that the distinguished Mr. Emi- 
nence is his old friend, and that he is of such a set. 
This is the magniloquence of footmen. The other 
takes care to inform you that he don't know the ob- 
scure Mr. Lowly, and never has anything to do with 
that class of people. Now we must not only "be 
courteous," but the Apostle adds, " pitiful" — willing 
to hold familiar and sympathizing communion w T ith 
the obscure and forgotten part of our species — willing 
to forget one's great self in bringing courage, hope, 
and joy to the stricken spirit, and the broken heart. 
The maxim of associating only with one's superiors 
or equals, is one of the most foolish and hurtful 
of vulgar errors : it contradicts every precept of the 
Gospel, and every feeling of humanity. Of what 
possible use to society are impudence and contempt, 
and the behavior they prompt ? We have a great 

own or a foreign land. He neither nourishes in his own countrymen 
a blind and conceited fondness for their own institutions, nor by indis- 
criminate praise of everything foreign, stirs up their patriotism. His 
judgment of the persons and places he has seen, is not formed on his 
own observations alone ; he modestly quotes the opinions of other trav- 
ellers, and gives his reasons for agreeing with, or differing from them. 
He does not pronounce hastily or confidently upon anything that he 
has merely glanced at in passing. Neither does he mix foreign phrases 
with his talk, nor give foreign proper names the foreign pronunciation, 
preferring the vernacular idiom of any other animal to the brayings 
of the travelled hybrid. He is careful to keep clear of imported 
manners, airs, and habits. The young traveller is prone to suppose 
that good breeding is only to be cultivated abroad, and wholly ne- 
glects his manners till he begins to travel, when it has come to be too 
late to acquire them anywhere. After a flying tour through Europe, 
he returns, imagining he is bringing all its elegance along with him. 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



237 



liking for the motto used by Charles Brandon, on the 
occasion of his marriage with the queen at a tourna- 
ment ; the trappings of his horse being half cloth of 
gold and half frize. 

" Cloth of gold do not despise, 
Though thou art matched with cloth of frize ; 
Cloth of frize be not too bold, 
Though thou art matched with cloth of gold.' 

Egotism has sometimes been attributed to those 
who speak their own names in the same breath with 
those of the great. Shakspeare makes Cardinal 
Wolsey say, U I and my king." This is not his- 
torically true. In the record of the State Trials, the 
charge is, that he joined himself with the king in 
speaking and writing of state affairs ; as " the king 
and I give you our hearty thanks." This is not quite 
so bad, though it is egotistical enough, and should 
warn us against mentioning our own actions along 
with those of our betters. 

There is an extreme of modesty which the great 
alone can manifest with propriety, or rather in whom 
alone it is a virtue. For an obscure person to forget 
his fame, is to forget just nothing at all; whereas, 
for a man of renown to forget his renown is held to be 
a sort of prodigy and a sure mark of greatness. The 
man of low rank, who was elected chief magistrate 
of Aberdeen, and who, while receiving the congratu- 
lations of his friends, laid his hands upon his breast, 
and very emphatically declared that after all he was 
hut a mortal man, showed pride and ignorance 
enough to sink any city in Christendom. 

Nobody so completely puts himself into the power 



288 EGOTISM AND BOASTING, 



of flatterers as the egotist ; for, by proclaiming his 
master passion at once, he informs them how they 
may best manage him. This is especially the case 
when it consists in pride of wisdom, which is, of all 
mental diseases, the most difficult to cure, inasmuch 
as the disease lays hold of the remedy itself. 

A man must have a reputation for singular ve- 
racity, who is believed to mean what he says when 
he runs down himself. Pride is so rife in the world, 
that a man cannot appear to be really humble with- 
out being suspected of being a hypocrite. Seeing 
one will be alike thought proud whether he speaks 
for or against himself, his only safety is silently to 
turn his back upon himself, and this he may do with- 
out the slightest incivility. 

We have been speaking of general society. Among 
one's intimate friends, it is allowable to speak of 
what concerns ourselves, so it interests them also. 
Nay, even in public we may speak of such of our 
good qualities and advantages as the world notori- 
ously attributes to us. 

They commit a like impropriety who talk much of 
subjects pertaining to their profession, or business, or 
amusements. It savors of selfishness, if not of van- 
ity, to be ever harping upon one's daily employ- 
ments, and to allow such themes to swallow up those 
that are of general interest. A magistate once gave 
Dr. Johnson a long, tedious account of his exercising 
his criminal jurisdiction, the result of which was his 
having sentenced four convicts to transportation. 
The doctor, in an agony of impatience to get rid of 
such a companion, exclaimed : " I heartily wish, sir, 
that I were a fifth." The writer, at this moment, 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



239 



recollects having one evening called at the residence 
of a lawyer who entertained him till a late hour with 
a very circumstantial account of a petty case soon to 
come on, which the writer had never heard of before. 
Who was finally cast in the suit he has never since 
taken the trouble to inquire. 

Authors of poems, orations, and other literary pro- 
ductions, should very seldom consent to read them in 
company. JS~ow and then one of those who beg them 
to do so may really wish to hear their productions 
read ; but authors should consider that such readings 
will, in all likelihood, be tiresome to those present 
who are unlettered ; and to those of the lettered, who 
are not wont to go into company in quest of what 
they have already in their libraries. They should 
also consider whether the request is not made merely 
as a compliment to them. An emphatic caution is 
needful on this point, for the temptations to these 
readings are multiform and strong. We know an 
instance of a poet who recited his numbers before a 
company who heard with unmeasured applause till 
the genius had retired, when they expressed their 
mutual surprise that he should be so mad as to im- 
agine that to be poetry. Cases of this kind are by no 
means rare. Even the Abb£ Delille, who has obliged 
all coming generations with a charming poem on 
conversation, is known to have been overtaken in 
this fault, though he rebukes it in his verse. When 
the Abb£ and Robert Hall were one day dining at 
Sir James Mackintosh's, one who was present says 
that the Abb6 took up all the time in repeating his 
verses, and that Mr. Hall did not even speak. Sir 
James put in a word of approbation now and then, 



240 EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 

and the day was marred ; but the Ahh6 was gratified, 
and Sir James and Mr. Hall were pleased for that 
reason. I detail this incident because it occurs to 
me as an admonitory example under this head, and 
not as an instance of unpardonable inconsistency ; he 
must be the teacher of a scanty morality who acts p 
to his own instructions in every particular. 

Men of letters must be warned against talking ex- 
clusively on literature in mixed companies. Even if 
they confine themselves strictly to their mother 
tongue, it is not to be borne with. Many an ex- 
cellent woman has listened to the jargon of liter- 
ati, thinking, in the words of Mrs. Teresa Panza, 
"Though I cannot read a jot, I can spin." Not a 
few men think that a knowledge of books is far from 
comprising all the useful information in the world — 
men, too, who can think and talk well on themes en- 
tertaining to all, and who have been so annoyed by 
bibliomaniacs, that they could almost wish that an- 
other Omar might rise and burn all the books in Ger- 
many. 

Nor should scholars expose to the company the 
ignorance of persons they are talking with, except 
when it is likely to lead to some bad consequences. 
Neither should they boast of vanquishing in argu- 
ment a person of shallow intellect or scanty know- 
ledge. We should not draw our sword on the weak; 
if we do, let us, above all things, be ashamed to 
plume ourselves on having worsted them. 

It is not advisable to praise very highly brethren 
of our own persuasion. Were others to know that 
our panegyrics were prompted by fraternal affection 
and an admiration of eminent virtues, they might 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING, 



241 



hear them gladly, but a malicious world is ever ready- 
to surmise that they are dictated by vanity or big- 
otry. When duty calls upon us, as it sometimes 
does, to speak of the piety of a brother, it is beauti- 
ful to attribute it to a Divine origin. Paul, speaking 
of the liberality of his converts, wrote to the church 
of Corinth in these words : u Brethren, we make 
known to you the grace of God bestowed on the 
churches of Macedonia." And Peter speaks of Paul 
as writing " according to the wisdom given unto 
him." We hear an abundance of eulogiums on dis- 
tinguished Christians, with no mention of the fact 
that God made them all they were or could have 
been. It is taking nothing from the merits of the 
most illustrious mortal, to acknowledge that he is the 
creature of the King of kings. 

Genuine humility is a scarce virtue, and is to be 
discovered only by the most diligent search. The 
most of us meet with it so rarely, that when we do, 
we know not what to call it. But all of us can, and 
often do, detect pride in our neighbors, and never so 
easily as when it clashes with our own. In propor- 
tion as they exalt themselves they wound our pride 
by denying our pretensions, or inflaming our jealousy. 
If they conceal their small excellences they excite 
our curiosity, and lead us to set a high value on what 
it costs us so much to gain a sight of, but if they 
force them on our eyes we naturally close them. He 
who does his duty well and says nothing about it, 
will win the good-will of his fellow-men, and this is 
worth a great deal more than their applause. 

Self-praise occasionally succeeds with ignorant 
and credulous persons : very seldom with those who 

L " 



242 



EGOTISM AND BOASTING. 



have much knowledge of the world. He who can 
make a discerning mind think more highly of him 
for what he says of himself, must, without doubt, be 
a person of unusual ability and address. He must 
deserve all the praise he bestows on himself : for suc- 
cessful self-praise is the last triumph of genius. 



CHAPTEE XIV. 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 

The charms and benefits of conversation somewhat 
depend on the proper use of anecdotes. The best 
conversers know how well they serve to enliven, il- 
lustrate and prove their remarks — and they not often 
fail to recall one pertinent to their purpose. Still it 
requires an exact perception of character and a cul- 
tivated taste to relate anecdotes with the best effect ; 
and useful as hints on this subject may prove, they 
cannot supply the lack of a quick discovery of anal- 
ogies, and a ready attention to circumstances of per- 
son, time and place. 

Our first care should be to relate no anecdote 
which has a bad tendency, or is in the most remote 
degree associated with immodesty, blasphemy, or a 
derision of religion. Instances are not wanting, of 
professors who have in unguarded moments told 
anecdotes illustrative of wicked character, which, 
though designed to dissuade from vice, have served 
but to hang new pictures in the galleries of depraved 
imaginations ; those who heard them cannot forget 
them if they would : each attempt to erase them 
from the memory has only fixed them more deeply 
there. When some one offered to teach Themistocles 
the art of remembering, he replied that he preferred 



244 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



to learn the art of forgetting. In one application of 
that art we are all proficients ; in another none are ; 
we find no difficulty in making an oblivion of the 
good, but we find it well-nigh impossible to forget 
the evil. 

Again, there are anecdotes and stories which, 
though not exceptionable in themselves, become so 
when told in certain companies, and within earshot 
of certain individuals. It is not permissible to tell 
an anecdote reflecting on a denomination when mem- 
bers of it are present ; or illustrative of the bad man- 
ners, morals, or condition of a country, when a na- 
tive of it is one of the company ; in a word, it is 
always unsafe, when we are thrown among strangers, 
to speak to the prejudice of any nation, sect, or per- 
son. It is a Spanish proverb, often, though not too 
often quoted, " that we should not talk of halters in 
the house of a man whose father was hanged." Ac- 
cordingly, we should not describe a death-bed scene 
to one who is sick or bereaved, nor talk of bankrupts 
with those who have failed, nor of family quarrels 
with those who are not happy in their domestic con- 
nections. Full many a story that is told in society is 
pointed with a moral which secretly pierces some 
heart which has already bled too freely. We know 
Solomon has said, "The words of the wise are as 
nails and as goads" — they have point; but at the 
same time the wise are wary, lest their words wound 
where they were designed only to excite. 

Long stories are of singular efficacy in hastening 
business, and especially in inducing sleep. Two 
ambassadors of Perugia went to Eome, and, on being 
admitted to the Pope, who was sick abed, one of 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



245 



them went through with a long, tedious narration, of 
which the Pope showed signs of dislike. Then the 
second said, "Most Holy Father, our commission 
directs that if your Beatitude will not suddenly de- 
spatch us with satisfaction, my colleague should re- 
commence his speech, and pronounce it again more 
leisurely." The Pope was so much pleased with this 
remark, that he gave order they should be presently 
despatched. Sir William Temple says there used to 
be tale-tellers in Scotland, whose business it was to 
lull restless travellers to sleep at the inns with their 
humdrum stories about giants and dwarfs. Even 
short stories, told and told again, are equally sop- 
orific. Doddington one day falling asleep in the 
company of Sir Kichard Temple, Lord Cobham, and 
several others, one of the party reproached him with 
his drowsiness. He replied that he could repeat all 
Lord Cobham had been saying. Cobham challenged 
him to do so. Doddington repeated a story, and 
Cobham owned he had been telling it. " Well," 
said Doddington, " and yet I did not hear a word of 
it ; I went to sleep because I knew that about this 
time of day you would tell that story." 

The best anecdotes come short of their intended 
effect when those to whom they are told are preoccu- 
pied, or are in circumstances unfavorable to atten- 
tion. In most large companies, they are out of 
place. The variety of objects which engage the 
mind in such places expose one to frequent interrup- 
tions : here the talk must necessarily be of a ram- 
bling kind. If an anecdote is ever introduced, only 
the gist or moral is to be given, taking for granted 
that listeners either know or can supply particulars. 



246 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



Neither should we undertake to tell long stories while 
we are travelling among attractive scenery, especially 
at the setting out. 

We ought never to relate an anecdote with a view 
to eclipse one just related, or to show we can tell the 
most laughable or marvellous one. If we follow the 
anecdote of another with a story of our own, it should 
be purely for the purpose of establishing its truth or 
adding to its force. 

When a person is illustrating a principle by an an- 
ecdote, and purposes to make additional remarks on 
the same principle, it is not proper to break in upon 
him by saying, "that reminds me of another anec- 
dote" — one perhaps that has little bearing on the 
subject, and, when related, reminds another person of 
an anecdote still more alien to the matter in hand, 
and so leading off till the original point is lost sight 
of altogether. 

It is not worth while to correct an inaccuracy in a 
statement, not material to the point in question, or, 
when the narrator has done, to give the circle an 
amended and improved edition of it, at the same 
time citing testimony, and observing that we have it 
from reliable sources. Nicely to discriminate be- 
tween fancy and fact may do very well for historians, 
but we must not treat a teller of anecdotes as we 
would a mouldy manuscript, which has no sense of 
honor, and cannot revenge itself when we give it the 
loud lie. We should not then interrupt the relater for 
the purpose of correcting him. It is to be taken for 
granted that he who sets about telling an anecdote, 
relates what is unknown to the rest of the circle, or 
at any rate what he knows better than they. To in- 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



247 



terrupt him with a view to set him right, disconcerts 
him, and makes him go on stumbling to the end ; 
even if it does not provoke him to stop short and 
insist on the corrector's proceeding, or, to crown the 
affair, to deny the justice of the correction. 

When we are interrupted, and the listeners are 
suddenly diverted to something else, we should be 
diverted also. We should not, as some do, when 
they are deserted by their listeners, seem surprised, 
and wait in moody taciturnity for some one to bid us 
take up the thread of our story. If others are moved 
to mirth by something else, we should be as serene 
as if we had succeeded to admiration. When their 
thoughts take another direction we should immedi- 
ately join them in the chase : nor should we go on 
with our story till particularly requested to do so. 

It is not complimentary to the narrator when he 
has told his story to stare him in the face as if we 
did not perceive its point or moral, or to beg him to 
repeat, as we were not at the moment giving atten- 
tion. " He that telleth a tale to a fool," observes the 
son of Sirach, "speaketh to one in slumber; when he 
hath told the tale, he will say ; what is the matter?" 
It is also mortifying to the narrator to say that we 
do not perceive the bearing of his story on the sub- 
ject, or that we do not think him as witty as usual. 
Intimates sometimes use such language in talking 
with each other, but it is in no case very respectful. 
Few can bear to be told, even by their best friends, 
that they talk commonplace or nonsense ; while 
nothing is a greater encouragement to a talker than 
appreciation ; a dull talker who is heard and ap- 
plauded will outdo himself. 



248 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



We should, in general, tell only such anecdotes as 
are novel. By this we do not mean that the actions 
and incidents they describe should be of recent oc- 
currence, but merely unknown to the person to whom 
we relate them. "When we tell an anecdote that is 
not new, as in rare cases we may, it is best to begin 
by owning that it is rather trite. In quoting a say- 
ing, we should take care to refer it to its rightful 
author, or else to no one in particular. If we would 
avoid untoward blunders, we should make no sur- 
mises on this score, as for instance, "I am of the 
opinion of that eminent jurist, Nimrod, who fought 
at the battle of Bunker Hill." Nor should we quote 
"That excellent work the Pilgrim's Progress, at- 
tributed to Thomas a Kempis, and published in Eng- 
land by Richard Baxter, shortly before he was behead- 
ed by Charles I., in company with Lady Jane Grey." 

When we quote a witticism from some book of 
ana, or facetim, we should notify listeners of the 
fact, lest they think we design to impose it upon 
them as original. It is pardonable to quote anecdotes 
that may be found in collections made ready to 
hand ; for the work of compiling anecdotes is now- 
a-days carried to such lengths, that it is before- 
hand with the man of the most deep and various 
reading, who is not to be presumed to quote from 
these compilations, because he quotes what is to be 
found in them. An anecdote will rarely bear re- 
peating, and if we have not an inexhaustible fund 
of wit, w T e had better not contract the habit of say- 
ing fine things, or telling anecdotes. Unless we 
have a good memory, we shall compel our friends to 
hear the same thing once and again, which is tire- 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



249 



some enough — not to say that the practice shows that 
we are *so overrun with vanity as to plume ourselves 
upon these trifles. 

When another tells an anecdote or story with 
which you are already familiar, do not intimate that 
you have heard it before, unless the question is asked 
you, and in confessing that you have, signify your wish 
to hear it again, that others present may not be de- 
prived of the pleasure of hearing it for the first time. 

Entertainers, and persons of consideration, whose 
duty it often is rather to encourage others to talk, 
than talk themselves, may call out the diffident, or 
the learned, by requesting them to relate the par- 
ticulars of some anecdote or incident which has 
been alluded to in the course of the talk. Always 
when our opinion is requested, it is a graceful 
mark of deference to refer the asker to some indi- 
vidual present, who has more knowledge of the point 
in question, or is older or more experienced than 
ourselves. 

We should not relate anecdotes for their own sake, 
or for the purpose of mere talk and display. Let them 
grow naturally out of the subject, explain some fact, 
or illustrate some principle. The converser must 
take heed lest he become a confirmed and incorrigible 
story-teller. Such a one may for a while keep a 
circle in good humor, but he cannot long be held in 
esteem. After hearing a retailer of anecdotes fre- 
quently, we discover that his stock of wit is mainly, 
if not wholly, borrowed, and of course soon disposed 
of; when, it is ten to one, he will become the most 
prosaic of talkers : we have known old story-tellers of 
treacherous memory, to make themselves more des- 

L* 



250 ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 

picable than their stories were amusing. A story- 
telling professor of religion loses the respect of the 
worldly, and by causing his person and name to be 
associated with ridiculous ideas, he puts it out of his 
power to make any serious impression on their minds. 
So far do some carry their facetiousness, that they 
are known only in the character of merry-makers, 
and cannot open their mouth on the most common 
subject without making the circle titter in anticipa- 
tion of hearing a witticism. 

It is a remark of the eminent Yinet, that orna- 
ment of the Swiss and French churches, in his pos- 
thumous work on Pastoral Theology, that the Chris- 
tian ministry are as a class liable to this error ; and 
that clerical gossip has in some countries past into a 
proverb. He quotes, in allusion to the same topic, 
the saying of the distinguished German preacher, 
Harms, that no profession furnishes so many nar- 
rators of anecdotes, and of no class in society are 
more anecdotes told. 26 

These professional story-tellers are not often welcome 
in companies where there are several good conversers ; 
they monopolize the attention of the circle, by sim- 
ply making drafts upon their memories. Original 
thinkers do not like to be silenced by mere reciters ; 
they are moved to envy them their memories, or to 
hate them for throwing their own talents into the 
shade. He is always well received in society, who 
is not only entertaining himself, but assists other 
people to be the same — who can justly apply to him- 
self the words of Falstaff; "I am not only witty 
myself, but the cause that wit is in other men." 

25 Vinet, Theologie Pastorale. Paris, 1850, p. 158. 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



251 



Most sedulously must we aim to tell anecdotes in 
strict agreement with the fact. We may indeed 
omit immaterial circumstances, but we are very sel- 
dom allowed to add aught thereto. Let us take heed 
how we attach to them ornaments or comments of our 
own for the sake of effect;, for, however justifiable 
they may be in solitary instances, still, in too many 
cases, they amount to detraction, or if hot, at least to 
a suspicion of an attempt at exaggeration or fabrica- 
tion. Add to this that brevity and simplicity in re- 
lating an incident make way for its descent into the 
heart. These cautions are especially applicable to 
anecdotes that illustrate Christian experience and the 
doctrine of Providence. Many of these are of the 
nature of Christian evidence ; so that to misstate 
them becomes detrimental to our religion, by giving 
to the world erroneous notions of the Divine govern- 
ment and the operations of the Holy Spirit. In re- 
lating tales and stories, however, we are not required 
to clip the wings of fancy ; we may embellish and 
finish them with our best skill. To improve these in 
the relating, is a laudable aim. 

Whether we are relating anecdotes or stories, we 
may omit those circumstances which, if left out, take 
nothing from their sense or effect. Minute particu- 
lars, preliminary remarks, explanatory clauses, pa- 
rentheses, and digressions, there should be few or 
none at all, especially in telling anecdotes. Some 
begin by saying, " The man I am going to speak of 
was a physician about forty years old, tall, of dark 
complexion, the son of Mr. Strangeways, who used to 
live in Bond street. He married the only daughter 
of Alderman Immense, who died either of obesity or 



252 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



apoplexy — I forget which ; at all events, his death 
drove his wife into insanity," etc., etc. ; or, " before 
I proceed to my story allow me to mention one very 
important circumstance." People like to hasten to 
the catastrophe. To defer the conclusion tantalizes 
curiosity and expectation. Another annoying habit 
is to commence by asking such questions as the fol- 
lowing : " Do you know Mr. Huge ? Do not ! Well, 
he is the son of Capt. Huge. You have heard of 
him, havn't you, sir? Tou must know him if you 
know anything. Why, sir, you must know his son. 
Do you not recollect seeing him at Mrs. Bats-eyes' 
once last winter?" There are those who will ask 
even strangers and travellers questions of this kind, 
not considering that they must be very ignorant of 
them and their friends. It is an imprudence to ask 
any one, within earshot of others, whether he knows 
individuals of doubtful character, whom he is quite 
ashamed to own as acquaintance. 

Nor should we begin by making promises, as, 
" Let me tell you an anecdote which is very amus- 
ing," or "Hear a happy hit," or "I just now call to 
mind a retort which I think remarkably fine," or " I 
will tell you a thing that will surprise you." As the 
narrator, by such a proem, makes pretensions he is 
not able to act up to, so he disappoints his hearers, 
and meets with a cold reception. 

After a recital which has produced an effect, we 
should not repeat it for the purpose of raising a sec- 
ond burst of applause. Neither should we repeat an 
anecdote which did not appear to be understood the 
first time, or attempt to explain it or point out the 
ludicrous part of it. 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



253 



What are properly called stories may occasionally 
be told in society for their own sake. In circles that 
are formed for a whole evening, and forbidden to 
break up before a certain hour, though every rational 
entertainment should run dry, recourse is sometimes 
had to story-telling. There are stories, though they 
are scarce, which are replete with moral instruction, 
and seem to be ail but incarnations of morality. 
"When we tell one of this nature, we should eschew 
moralizing as we go along, or at the conclusion : the 
listeners will naturally wish to say something about 
its moral. As to long stories, we need not say a 
word ; so we pass on to observe that, 

Mimicry is to be shunned ; particularly the mim- 
icking of bad habits and constitutional defects, as 
lisping, stammering, and limping. A burlesquing 
of national or provincial peculiarities is sometimes 
warrantable ; but it is never meet to make the man- 
ners and foibles of individuals a subject of mimicry. 
This is not, however, to be construed as forbidding a 
respectful imitation of others with a view to give a 
correct idea of their characters or manners. 

In this connection we must protest against the too 
common practice of burlesquing the characters, events, 
doctrines and language of the holy scriptures, or the 
recital of anecdotes that go to set Christians, as such, 
in a ludicrous light. 

Before undertaking a narration of any kind, we 
should consider not w T hether it is interesting to us, 
but whether it is likely to be interesting to others. 
Personal affairs, family history and local incidents, 
are not often entertaining to any but the narrators 
themselves. The same holds true of repeating in 



254 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



one circle the colloquies of another ; in which often 
recur the expressions "said I," and "said he." Still, 
after all, we are justified in talking on subjects 
which would otherwise be hardly passable, when the 
company is threatened with a long silence, which is 
more to be dreaded than the worst piece of prosing. 

It is wise not to set ourselves to tell an anecdote or 
story unless we are familiar with it. To stop in the 
midst for the purpose of recollecting some point, or 
of asking another to assist our memory ; to forget 
the very word or sentence in which is hid the whole 
force of the anecdote, is a mortification both to nar- 
rator and listener. Nevertheless, if the latter is 
well-bred, he will listen with respectful attention to 
such tongue-tied confusion, particularly if the narra- 
tor is an aged person or has a frail memory. 

The Christian who has at command a variety of re- 
ligious anecdotes, possesses a means of great useful- 
ness. By their help he can make the most spiritual 
subjects entertaining to the ungodly themselves : by 
accompanying a principle with a pertinent fact, ex- 
ample or illustration, he plants it in their minds so 
firmly, that it can never be rooted out. Anecdotes 
engage the feelings. It is not easy to press any ab- 
stract truth, however practical in its bearings, home 
to uncultivated minds, so as to touch their sensi- 
bilities, and make them the springs of prompt and 
powerful action. But these living manifestations of 
truth, by giving it form, complexion, motion and 
voice, effect this more readily than general argu- 
ments and exhortations. 

Another use of anecdotes and stories is to give a 
profitable turn to talk when it is taking a wrong di- 



ANECDOTES AND STORIES. 



255 



rection. A skilful anecdotist will beguile noisy de- 
baters from their contested ground, triflers from their 
prattlings, musers from their gloomy silence, and de- 
tractors from their prey. 

The judicious narrator is generally well received 
in society. He runs little risk of wounding the pride 
of others, since he does not strive to silence or out- 
talk them. He aims not to send along the line of 
the company the running fire of a titter, but simply 
to afford it a rational and beneficial diversion. As 
he only tells what he has heard or read, so he does 
not bring upon himself the charge of oracular wisdom, 
and the blame that commonly attaches to moralizers 
and wranglers. He agreeably engages Ihe attention 
without fatiguing it, and by carrying our minds 
back to the past, withdraws them from the frivolities 
of the present ; the virtues that are afar off are 
made to hide the faults that are at hand : the his- 
tory of a nation or the biography of a hero is made 
to take the place of the scandal of a coterie or the 
vaporings of inane pretension. 



CHAPTEE XV. 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 

u My wife's judgment agreed with mine," says 
Richard Baxter, " that too much table-talk and too 
often, of the best things, doth but tend to dull the 
common hearers and harden them under it as a cus- 
tomary thing ; and that too much good talk may 
bring it into contempt, or make it ineffectual." 
Those who confine their discourse to the subject of 
religion and other solemn themes, may preserve a 
reputation for consistency with those who mistake 
the nature of the Gospel system, imagining it to be 
little else than the exaction of penances and auster- 
ities ; but the attempt which some professors make 
to adapt their religion to the false notions of such 
people, only makes it the more forbidding to them. 
The truth is, that the Christian religion, beyond any 
other whatsoever, makes the soul that is conscious of 
a personal interest in it, joyful and jubilant. Christ 
came down to this world, not to give us a revelation 
of sin, guilt, death, and hell,— this we had already ; 
but to prepare and proclaim a way of deliverance 
from them. This train of dark realities was led into 
the world by the first Adam, not by the second. It 
was these things indeed that moved the Son of God 
to come to our rescue, and to send the Holy Spirit 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



257 



into the world to finish the work of redemption ; but 
they properly make no part of the Gospel revelation. 
The cross was erected on Golgotha " the place of a 
skull," but it was not itself a skull. The man of the 
world tells us that our religion is one of terrors ; not 
considering that it is his sins that make him view it 
in this light. He ascribes to Christ and his servants 
terrors which are the peculiar portion of Satan and 
his dupes. Melancholy, sorrow and remorse, always 
have been, are now, and eternally must be, the cup 
of those who will not receive the glad tidings of sal- 
vation. 

There is in some pious minds a mistaken persua- 
sion on this subject. It appears that Baxter was in- 
duced occasionally to enliven his familiar talk with 
secular subjects, not as much by his prevailing tem- 
per and frame, as by motives of expediency. The 
Nonconformists of his time, as well as the Puritans 
of an earlier period, were characterized by an aus- 
terity and solemnity of deportment not strictly an- 
swerable to the gentleness, cheerfulness, and sweet- 
ness, which mark the highest order of piety. There 
was no doubt good cause for this type of character. 
The levity, ribaldry, and blasphemy that overran the 
palace and the ale-house, the theatre and the draw- 
ing-room ; the sports and revelries that broke the 
silence and the sanctity of the Sabbath, were well 
calculated to drive all pious people to the other ex- 
treme of frowning sullenness. And when the general 
dissoluteness was set over against their habitual so- 
briety, the contrast made them seem more sanctimo- 
nious than they really were. Pure was the flame of 
devotion that arose from their hearts towards heaven, 



258 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



and brightly did it glare athwart the moral darkness 
of the earth. It warmed the soul, and yet it did not 
always gladden it. The conversation of the Puritan 
was decent and scriptural. His lips were sanctified 
like those of Isaiah, by a live coal off the altar, and 
like those of that prophet, often uttered words of ad- 
monitory and presaging eloquence ; but they were not 
like those of the evangelist John, which had been 
equally hallowed by the society of his Master, and 
poured forth not only the testimonies of truth, but 
preserved also evermore the law of kindness. 

Yet it is to be doubted whether, taken all in all, 
the mass of modern professors have altered the man- 
ners of their fathers much for the better. For while 
a few examples of puritanic gravity are still to be 
seen among us, we have in general backslidden into 
levity and frivolousness. We might have wisely 
ameliorated in some degree the ancient preciseness, 
but that we should have quite cast it off is a fact 
that calls for regret. The frequenters of the church 
and those of the ball-room ; the worshippers of God 
and the devotees of Mammon ; the children of faith 
and those of fashion, now assemble on common 
ground, and gyrate in the same circles. Those lay- 
ing aside the offending cross, and these investing 
themselves in their best moralities, contrive to form 
a confederation which is tolerable to both, but con- 
sistent in neither. And while each class sacrifices 
some peculiarity to the other, the people of the world 
are allowed to give the tone to the company, and to 
select the themes of conversation. The talk which is 
so much in fashion in these companies, is light, 
grovelling, equally devoid of piety and intellect. It 



WIT AND PLEASANTKY. 



259 



seems as if this empty prattle were invented, that 
rational and accountable beings might find a decent 
way of disowning their nature, and an easy method 
of murdering time. It gives no beneficial employ- 
ment to the mind, and answers none of the ends for 
which the human kind should congregate. 

In these assemblies, the Christian is led off his 
guard unawares. Holding converse with people of 
respectable lives and engaging manners, who pay 
an exterior deference to religion, and shock none of 
his moral sensibilities, he is enticed away, step by 
step, from habits of devotion into dissipating mirth, 
and held captive to the ruling spirit of worldliness. 
Were his associates persons of avowed impiety, he 
would not hesitate to forswear all conformity to their 
principles and practice ; but in these companies of 
elegant moralists, he is solicited to sinful compli- 
ances so gently and gradually, that he is overcome 
before he is aware of having so much as consented to 
a parley. When the traveller in the old fable was 
overtaken with the north wind, he drew his cloak 
closely about him, but when the wind died away, and 
the sky cleared up, the genial beams of the sun 
caused him unwittingly to drop it. Of such a con- 
formist to the world, we may say what the prophet 
said to Ephraim : " He hath mixed himself among 
the people. Strangers have devoured his strength 
and he knoweth it not." Samson has consented to 
be shorn of the JSTazarite locks wherein lay his might, 
and is to hold himself repaid for the sacrifice he has 
made, by the Babylonian garment with which his new 
friends have clad him. 

The most pious persons are especially exposed to 



260 WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



occasional bursts of mirth. When once their wonted 
seriousness is broken, it would seem as if their words, 
so long held in check, being now let loose, are re- 
solved to make amends for past restraints. Some, 
at times, give themselves up to jollity, from a fear 
that their severity would be a hindrance to free con- 
versation, or make piety repulsive to the sons and 
daughters of folly. Even if they do not carry their 
merriment so far as worldlings do, still it attracts 
more attention. Their piety makes their gayeties 
conspicuous, just as the golden spikes on the top of 
Solomon's temple owed some of their radiance to 
their elevation. This fact is too often overlooked. 
And, we might add, though a certain degree of joy- 
ousness is sanctioned, and even fostered by our re- 
ligion, let us not forget that actions, which are inno- 
cent in themselves, are to be omitted when others 
are likely to be wrongly influenced by them. 

Incessant efforts to amuse, though they are always 
unpleasing, are never more so than when they are 
put forth in skirmishes of witticisms and jokes. 
Those who engage in them, soon exhausting what 
little pure wit they have, are forced to resort to an 
affectation of it, and to require us to applaud each 
sally by a laborious laugh. One may very well seek 
the society of those who are too entertaining when 
he is too happy ; but, surely, he who goes into com- 
pany in quest of pastime should not look for it among 
those who are vainly taxing their ingenuity to make 
him merry. This desire of amusing is a chief cause 
of the many frivolous confabulations we hear in so- 
ciety. To this divinity are sacrificed good sense and 
decorum, and even wit itself. Nobody is content to 



WIT AND PLEASANTBY. 



261 



please — to shun whatever is inelegant, and to pursue 
whatever affords a calm and lasting satisfaction. 
And since trifles and fancies are the staple of amuse- 
ment, those who can originate them are amply pre- 
pared to meet all the demands of these circles. It 
commonly happens, however, that the fund of trifles 
is soon exhausted, so that the entertainment is event- 
ually reduced to a mere round of repetitions. 

But shall not the mind be allowed some relaxa- 
tion? On this point there can be but one opinion. 
The mind is not capable of unceasing labor ; and if, 
when in the intervals of toil, instead of giving itself 
up to restless idleness it be employed in diversion, it 
shortly recovers from its weariness, and returns, with 
augmented energies, to vigorous thinking. Every- 
body remembers how ^Esop 26 apologized for his play- 
ing with children, by alluding to the unbent bow. 
Cicero justified an occasional relaxation from the 
business of the forum, by bringing forward the ex- 
ample of birds, which, when they have finished their 
nests, fly about sportively and at random ; and if 
tradition is to be credited, the evangelist John un- 
bent his mind by playing with a tame partridge. 
Nature herself teaches us to renovate our enfeebled 
powers by passing from a severe to a lighter exercise 
of them ; but every amusement that does not so re- 
cruit the mind as to prepare it for serious and profit- 
able thinking, is worse than none. The mischief of 
levity is not that it merely unbends, but that it un- 
strings the bow of the mind, destroys its elasticity, 

26 Some attribute this action to Agesilaus ; the old legendary- 
writers, to St. John : Phfedrus says it was ^Esop — no matter who it 
was. 



262 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



and altogether unfits it for service. Beyond this, it 
leaves the mind a prey to lassitude, discontent, and 
disgust. The victims of toil, disease, and sorrow are 
happy in comparison with those of excessive amuse- 
ment. A man miserably afflicted with a hypochon- 
driacal complaint consulted Dr. Tonchin. " Tou 
want amusement, sir," said Tonchin to him, " go and 
see Carlini, the harlequin ; he will make you laugh, 
and do you more good than anything I can prescribe 
to you." "Alas! sir," said the patient, " I myself 
am Carlini." This disease is almost past cure when 
it is caused by inordinate joy and hilarity, for it is 
attended with an exhaustion of those animal spirits 
which are its best remedy. If one makes that a 
business which should be only a pastime, whither 
shall he turn for recreation ? He can find relief in 
no kind of amusement. He must either endure, as 
best he may, the disaster he has brought upon his 
jaded faculties, or be driven to this alternative : 
either to betake himself to the healing of evangel- 
ical grace, or to commit suicide in the vain hope that 
by destroying his body, he will put an end to the 
miseries of his soul. 

The judicious Christian indulges a pure and mod- 
erate playfulness, not allowing it to make up the 
substance of his talk, but only its seasoning. He 
makes use of it to enliven tediousness, to drive away 
the melancholy of his friends, and to light up with 
hearty smiles the faces of his enemies. Yet he is 
not resolved on amusing at all times and in all 
places. He does not covet the reputation of a hu- 
morist so eagerly as to seek it at all hazards, even if 
it should force him to sing an epithalamium at a 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



263 



funeral. Grace has not extinguished his natural wit. 
It has only refined and dignified it, and his newly- 
tuned sensibilities inform hira when, where, and how 
far to give it utterance. It was, we believe, the re- 
mark of Madame de Stael, when, during her visit to 
England, she had been much in the society of the 
great philanthropist, that she had heard, before 
knowing him, of Wilberforce as the iest man in 
England, but that she had not been prepared to find 
him also the wittiest. A man of saintly innocence 
may have a refined and sportive wit. 

We do well to consider that wit is an untractable 
faculty. Unless it is well bridled, it will overleap 
the lines of propriety. Most of the keen darts of wit 
that one hears whizzing by, have been pointed, barbed, 
and poisoned by envy and malignity, and fix on 
some person the stigma of vice, folly, or weakness. 
For this reason kind-hearted conversers have little to 
do with them. Pascal, himself, by nature one of the 
keenest of wits, has some such remark as this in his 
"Thoughts" that "To have the name of saying 
good things, is a bad character he means of course 
one little befitting the lowly and kindly disciple of 
Christ. The wit can hardly prevail on himself to 
withhold a gibe for the sake of affection. He falsely 
presumes that his friends will not smart under the 
thrusts he gives them ; or if they do not, they will 
forgive the offence since it is committed by him. So 
he goes on, putting their patience to the proof, till he 
has provoked them past endurance. He who would 
be a wit must be content to boast few friends. A 
joke is " an air-drawn dagger," from which our flesh 
instinctively shrinks. We see not the hand that 



264 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



grasps it, and cannot divine how deep it will strike : 
should it prove harmless, we do not thank it for 
startling us. 

There is a kind of banter or persiflage which con- 
sists in playing upon foibles that are not accounted 
real blemishes by those who laugh at them, but are 
taken to heart as serious charges by the person who 
is the subject of them. Though this is commonly 
thought an innocent sort of humor, it is many times 
far from being such. Besides exposing a worthy 
person to shame or contempt, and perhaps rousing 
his anger, it is calculated to lessen our horror of vice. 
How often, for instance, do we hear people rallying 
their friends on their intemperance, or indolence, or 
pride, — rallying men on their too great freedom with 
women, or women on their too great freedom with 
men, and the like — people, too, who profess to be- 
lieve these sins to be among the greatest scourges to 
society, and the most heinous offences in the sight of 
God. He who can make sport of such sins, has de- 
fective notions of their enormity, and leads others to 
think too lightly of the guilt of committing them. 
Again, the habit of humorously setting good quali- 
ties in a bad light, as calling zeal, fanaticism, or be- 
neficence, prodigality, and ridiculing persons for vices 
from which they are known to be remarkably free— 
this habit is open not only to the abuses before stated, 
but to this additional one, that what is said in rail- 
lery often passes current among slow-minded people 
as a well-attested fact. 

It is scarcely ever wise to repay a joke or repartee 
in kind. In most cases it is better to make no an- 
swer at all ; or if any, to answer without vulgarity or 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



265 



unkindness. To a humorous but indecent sally no 
other than a grave and decent answer is allowable. 
To indulge even humor in reply would be a de- 
grading condescension. It is often best rebuked by 
a compassionate silence. 

It was the opinion of Luther that Satan himself 
cannot bear contempt ; it is certain that man cannot. 
No creature is more dreaded in society than a sneer- 
ing, satirizing, disdainful one. If we cannot avoid 
feeling an inward contempt of another, we can at any 
rate avoid showing him any mark of it. The be- 
trayal of such a feeling will offend without reforming 
him. We should never heed what we cannot help. 

Let the Christian wholly refrain from making any 
part of the holy Scriptures matter of ludicrous com- 
parison, allusion, quotation, travesty, or anything of 
the kind. He is so familiar with them that he is ea- 
sily tempted to clothe a facetious thought in their 
quaint and forcible language, but he ought to feel 
such a reverence for them as will ever keep him 
back from speaking of them in a sportive vein. May 
he not, then, it will be asked, relate some of the in- 
stances of pious blunders in discoursing on, reading, 
or quoting them? Hardly ever; for the ludicrous 
ideas which they attach to particular words or pass- 
ages, break in upon us whenever we read or meditate 
on them. He who thus, in some sort, writes in the 
margin of my Bible, humorous comments, illustra- 
tions, and references, greatly hinders my religious 
improvement. It is like the old grotesque style of 
illumination adopted by some of the monastic artists, 
both in their transcripts of devotional manuals and 
in the architecture of sacred edifices. The border 

M 



266 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



of the door to the house of worship, and the margin 
of the manual of prayer is made absolutely to grin 
with the antic postures and visages of apes, mules, 
and fiends. Satan does not dread a decalogue which 
he is allowed thus to ornament and illuminate ; and 
few readers could use it with safety much less with 
pious edification. Such a man casts hellebore, 
causing madness, among the daily manna which 
my soul eats, and into the fountain whence I drink 
the waters of immortality. 

The Christian is also to be cautioned against start- 
ing, or taking part in a burlesque dispute on any 
moral or religious question. For while some trifling 
matters may be innocently handled in a jocund way, 
it can hardly be doubted, that if Christians who are 
solicited to join in the sport, would first consult their 
consciences as to their duty in the case, few of them 
would ever consent so to banter about any serious 
question. 

Jests on sacred subjects are not only indicative of 
very little wit and less taste, but they are oftentimes 
proofs of the insincerity of the jesters. As servants 
who feel no respect for their master, will make wry 
faces at him when his back is turned, so these per- 
sons do not scruple to make merry with their religion 
when it has ceased to work upon their fears, or when 
they think it more to their present interest than it 
would be to pay it a hypocritical reverence. If some 
of those who indulge this species of low wit are sin- 
cere — and some of them undoubtedly are — they have, 
to say the least, too evanescent and superficial a piety 

" Foolish talking and jesting," says Paul, " are not 
convenient" or to use a more modern word, becoming. 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



267 



The Apostle must be understood to forbid all bad- 
inage and jocularity. Were a heathen, who was 
wholly ignorant of the Gospel, to enter almost any 
circle of Christians, and listen awhile to their conver- 
sation, so far from inferring the above to be one of 
our sacred precepts, he would be likely to conclude 
the contrary to be the case. From the regularity 
with which we introduce foolish talking and jesting 
on all occasions of familiar intercourse, he would not 
unreasonably set them down in his own mind as 
among the most imperative duties of our religion. 
And what would be his surprise, when told that 
Christians had so far yielded to the thraldom of 
fashion, as habitually and practically to regard the 
apostolic injunction as a nullity. 

It is scarcely worth while to say, that boisterous 
laughter does not comport with Christian gravity. 
It is every- way improper. Laugh we may at season- 
able times, and in a moderate manner. " A fool," 
saith the son of Sirach, "lifteth up his voice with 
laughter, but a wise man doth scarce smile a little." 
It is natural to be cheerful when we or others are 
happy ; and he who puts on airs of surprise at the 
temperate merriment of others, is further removed 
from sympathy with his own species, than to make 
himself morally useful to them. We must, above 
all, abstain from laughing at our own smart speeches. 
Whatever may be the physical uses of the laugh, it 
certainly is not expressive of any high moral feeling. 
Were we to analyze the habitual laugher, I am afraid 
we should find him chiefly composed of vanity, scorn, 
and dissimulation. 

As for him who sets up for a wit, he does his own 



268 



WIT AND PLEASANTRY. 



mind a great mischief. He so accustoms himself to 
view every object in a quaint light, that in lapse of 
time, he comes to be unable to contemplate the most 
solemn things in any other. He is forced to bur- 
lesque every subject he talks upon. When he would 
be serious, you think him joking, and when he would 
be joking, you think him serious. So long has he 
abused the faculty of speech, that it has ceased to 
perform its proper offices. Add to this, that uncom- 
mon sagacity and alertness of mind are apt to be re- 
garded as not compatible with probity ; the gener- 
ality are prone to cast a suspicious eye upon those 
who exhibit powers they do not themselves possess. 
And yet they do not consider wit as a mark of a high 
order of talents, but rather as inseparable from a light 
and superficial mind. The greater number of dis- 
tinguished wits appear to be wanting in every higher 
quality, and in none more than in piety. 



CHAPTEE XVI. 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 



The colloquial style is natural, easy and idiomatic. 
It is the free and animated expression of salient 
thoughts, lively feelings, and a sportive fancy. It is 
made up of the words and phrases in familiar use 
among the generality of those who speak the same 
language, and abounds in those arbitrary turns and 
forms of expression which are peculiar to a nation. 
It is as clear of the jargon of the foreigner and the 
cant of the vulgar, as it is of the preciseness of the 
pedant, the verbosity of the declaimer, and the dain- 
tiness of the sentimentalist. It is the language of 
unstudied but elegant simplicity, on which rules are 
formed — not hampered by them. But if it is simple, 
it is not necessarily the vehicle of trivial and com- 
monplace ideas. It is capable of giving utterance 
to original and sublime thoughts, and jet it some- 
times makes them pass for old and intimate ac- 
quaintance, by reason of the ease and familiarity 
with which they enter the mind. The scholar, or the 
philosopher, is welcomed into the conversational cir- 
cle, so he only speaks in its plain and unassuming 
language. By deigning to use the vernacular idiom 
of the conversers, he touches a chord that vibrates in 



270 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 



all then* hearts, and draws them nearer to him and 
to one another. 

No style is so difficult to master as the conversa- 
tional. In order to attain its peculiar excellences 
with no admixture of vulgarities and conceits, we 
must practise long in the companies where it is 
spoken. Women of cultivated minds are oftener 
adepts in it than men of the same class. 87 Few pure 
specimens of it are to be found in print ; the best, 
perhaps, in the published letters of our classical wri- 
ters when they forget themselves and their craft. 
For good examples of the courteous address which 
becomes disputants, and the phraseology of graceful, 
kind, and respectful discussion, the learned reader 
will call to mind the works of Plato, in the Greek, 
the philosophical works of Cicero, in the Latin, and 
II Cortegiano, by Castiglione, in the Italian ; and the 
English reader will remember Joseph Addison's Dia- 
logue upon ancient coins ; Berkley's works ; and 
Rev. James Hervey's Theron and Aspasio. We must 
not be understood, however, to recommend all these 
authors, in respect of their sentiments or their gene- 
ral style, but only as affording examples of gentle- 
manly debate. Affectations of the conversational 
style are to be met with in abundance. They are in 
great part a medley of styles, consisting of occa- 
sional fragments of beauty, in so disjointed a union 
however, as to produce all the effects of deformity. 
Not a few imagine that its ease is easily acquired, 

27 Few orators cultivated the art of speech more assiduously than 
Cicero ; and we are expressly told that he resorted to the society of 
noble and refined Roman matrons to perfect his mastery of the Latin 
tongue. 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 271 



and when they hear an accomplished converser, they 
straightway conclude they can easily learn to talk 
like him. Those who despise this style would re- 
spect it, did they know the difficulty of their becom- 
ing proficients in it ; and those who think it vulgar, 
have yet to learn that it calls for the highest exer- 
tions of the best taste and the best sense, to select the 
phrases and expressions of which it is made up, from 
the language of the common people among whom 
they originate, and to make them of a piece with the 
diction of elegance. 

It is hardly ever compassed by those who aim at 
ease or even correctness, while they are talking. 
Some emulating Johnson by trying to do their best 
on all occasions, or Mackintosh, who always spoke 
with faultless elegance, become declaimers or pu- 
rists, or perhaps both by turns. They do not con- 
sider that gracefulness must needs have a certain 
negligence about it, and that the incautious mood 
which lies open to mistakes ever attends the truest 
beauties of diction. In truth, the blunders them- 
selves become excellences when tact and graceful- 
ness are displayed in recovering from them. As to 
the choice of words, most people never speak so well 
a> when they speak at a venture. Many a stately 
discourse has been delivered in a circle of friends, 
in no part of which was a single tittle misplaced or 
omitted, and yet, viewed in the gross, it was but one 
carefully wrought error throughout. The correctness 
and elaborateness of written language is quite out 
of place in parlance. Here what is irregular often 
gives force and vivacity, and always naturalness to 
what is said. Here much is left to subaudition — ■ 



272 THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 

what is obscure is explained by the accompanying 
look or gesture, and what is hinted at in the unfin- 
ished sentence, is understood by the hearer, whose 
thoughts outrun the tongue of the hurrying talker. 
It is a peculiarity of most good conversers that they 
deal in happy strokes of thought, delivered the mo- 
ment they were conceived — in sentiments which 
come pulsing from the heart or sparkling from the 
fancy — in observations suggested by a slight occur- 
rence, perhaps ; and in off-hand discussions started 
suddenly and without premeditation. It is then, if 
ever, that they give us their best specimens of this 
style. They succeed because they speak just what 
they mean, and utter their thoughts just as they rise 
in their minds. Absorbed with the subject, and un- 
mindful of art, their ideas are brought forth by the 
unregarded operations of nature. 

The practiced con vers er makes clearness his first 
concern. He makes no apology for using an obso- 
lete or new-coined word that exactly expresses his 
idea, or is best understood by his hearers. " He 
chooses," says Delille, il words that are in common 
use, if they are not vulgar, and keeps equally clear 
of a labored elegance and an obscure niceness. He 
occasionally commits a solecism perhaps, which 
marks his own modes of thought, or gives a happy 
turn to a sentence. He strews his talk with modest 
and broken flowers ; and though he shows no art, he 
outdoes all the arts of the rhetorician. Many of his 
sentences may be stumbling-blocks to the gram- 
marian or the logician, but they are the delight of 
all who are alive to the beauty and grace of natural- 
ness." 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 278 



Nevertheless, it is possible for these negligences, 
if numerous and great, to become untoward. While 
the talker should not make great ado in conveying 
his thoughts, still he should not allow his words to 
rattle on too far ahead of his ideas. Few things are 
more annoying than the nonsense that vents itself in 
a profusion of words — than a whirling of the tongue 
long after the stream of thought that drove it has 
run dry. There is here and there one who willfully 
corrupts the language. Presuming on his real or fan- 
cied rank in society, he abandons himself to vulgar- 
ity or ribaldry, or obscenity of speech. In rebuke 
of such a one, it is useless to say one word ; his own 
language would correct him, if anything could. 

We should guard ourselves against the use of cant 
epithets. The adjectives "fine," "tremendous," 
" capital," etc., are nowadays applied to all persons 
and things indiscriminately. " Some folks," says 
Coleridge, "apply epithets as boys do in making 
Latin. When I first looked upon the falls of the 
Clyde, I was unable to find a word to express my 
feelings. At last a man, a stranger, who arrived 
about the same time, said, 'How majestic !' It was 
the precise term, and I was turning round and say- 
ing, ' thank you, sir, that is the exact word for it,' 
when he added in the next breath, c Yes, how 
pretty P " 

We should so express ourselves as not to force 
affirmatives or negatives from the listener. Such 
phrases as "You know," "You see," "Don't you 
see ?" " Do you understand ?" should be avoided. 
Those who are always saying, "I don't understand 
you," expose themselves to the retort, " It is your own 

M* 



274 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 



fault if you do not ;" &ay, rather, " will you please re- 
peat," or " pardon me, I am so obtuse as not to under- 
stand ;" and instead of saying, " You don't understand 
me," say "I don't make myself understood." In 
conversation avoid great formality of expression ; it 
is better to say " I can't tell," " I don't know," than 
" I cannot tell," "I do not know." A lady should 
not say, My husband — she should call him Mr. It is 
equally good breeding, when she is alone with him, 
to designate him by his Christian name. A young 
lady, if the eldest of the family, is entitled to the 
surname, as Miss Smithy while the younger sisters 
are called by their Christian names, as Miss Mary. 
Do not say merely " Ma'am" or " Miss" in address- 
ing ladies of your acquaintance. 

The vulgar are ambitious of using what they call 
" big words," and of multiplying euphemisms. Once 
he was the rustic who spoke Saxon, now he is the 
rustic who shuns the Saxon, and will speak only the 
affected Norman. To use such words as " per- 
spiration" instead of "sweat," "pantaloons" for 
"breeches," "an eructation" for "a belch," is 
growing to be decidedly vulgar. 28 

A principal fault in the conversational diction of 
Christians, is the indiscriminate use of scripture 
phrases and idioms. A free seasoning of scriptural 
sentiments beseems the conversation of saints ; and 
even the frequent quotation of Biblical language is 

* 8 It is in most eases not only lawful, but also expedient, to pro- 
nounce all foreign proper names according to English rules as applied 
to syllables of like orthography. Proper names claim the privilege 
of being naturalized in all languages by receiving, upon their first 
introduction, the pronunciation of native words. 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 275 

beautiful in the aged pilgrim. It comports with his 
wisdom, venerableness, and spirituality. But for 
others to form a habit of quoting Scripture in talking 
on all themes is very objectionable. It engenders 
an irreverence towards the most awful subjects ; and 
though many of those who treat Holy Writ with this 
kind of familiarity intend in this way to make their 
secular affairs a part of their religion, it frequently 
happens that they only make their religion a part of 
their secular affairs. Men of taste do not dislike the 
style of our version. They join in admiring and 
quoting it. "What excites their disgust, is to hear it 
quoted without judgment ; to hear Oriental idioms 
and the most obsolete parts cited on improper occa- 
sions, and with as much freedom as if they were the 
most poetic portions, and to hear such passages 
quoted in an abrupt and whimsical manner, in talk- 
ing with all sorts of persons, at all times, and in all 
places. And even this disgust comes almost as often 
of ignorance as of taste. Some of the reporters of 
Whitefield's sermons, preached in London, were so 
ignorant of the scriptures, as not to know that what 
they took for his language and ridiculed as his, was 
the quoted word of God. Mrs. Hannah More speaks 
of a gentleman who cited to her, as an exceptional 
sentence in a sermon he had heard, this declaration 
of Paul, "There is, therefore, now no condemnation 
to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not 
after the flesh, but after the Spirit." Whoever has 
held any intercourse with people of fashion, or even 
with unevangelized men of letters, must have been 
often struck with their wretched ignorance of Divine 
Revelation. Christians ought, therefore, when they 



276 THE STYLE OP CONVE BSATION. 



quote scripture in their hearing, at the same time to 
notify them, in some way or other, that they are 
quoting. 

In the received version, the Hebrew and Hellenistic 
idioms are sometimes not translated, but only trans- 
ferred. To translate an idiom is not to render it lit- 
erally, but to substitute for it a corresponding idiom, 
or if the language affords none, words which convey 
to us, as nearly as possible, the idea that the words 
in the original bore to those who spoke them. The 
idioms in question do not, as they are rendered in 
our version, make the same impression on the minds 
of English readers as they did, in the original, on 
those of the people of the East. Forms of language 
which were used in the refined court of Solomon, and 
are now in vogue among cultivated Orientals, are fas- 
tidiously shunned by the most ignorant Europeans 
and Europo- Americans of the present day. This is 
to be attributed less to a difference in virtue, knowl- 
edge, and taste, than to a difference in usage. Ac- 
cordingly, there are words and phrases in approved 
use in the most refined circles of London, which are 
unseemly to the same class in New York, and the re- 
verse holds equally true. The one is not, perhaps, 
displeased with the idea of the other, but only with 
his mode of expressing it. The same terms of lan- 
guage have varying shades of signification in differ- 
ent places, so that it becomes necessary to substitute 
other words in order to give utterance to the same 
idea, and nothing beyond it. 

Occasionally we hear persons making some scrip- 
ture expressions more offensive than they would oth- 
erwise be, by quoting them out of their connection. 



THE STYLE OF 



CONVERSATION. 



277 



The most elegant things may become indecorous 
when they are out of place, while, on the other hand, 
things that are indecorous in themselves are made 
decent by the circumstances in which they are spo- 
ken. Words which are not unpleasing to the ear 
when they are spoken by the aged or the uneducated, 
may be so when spoken by the young or the refined. 
The phraseology of the original scriptures is, to a 
great degree, that of unsophisticated nature. Those 
who first used it in the East were plain men, dwell- 
ing in tents, and, when we read what they said, we 
bear in mind that they lived in the remote past, and 
in other regions, and feel that there was a strict ac- 
cordancy between their character and their language. 
And so we can easily understand how our Saxon fore- 
fathers, living in a ruder age than our own, could use 
the language of our version without impropriety. 
But when we, who live in this dainty age, adopt as 
our own the same simple and unadorned expressions, 
the incongruity is at once manifest. It is true, that 
when they are read or quoted on occasions of public 
or family worship, we do not disrelish them, because 
we are habituated to hear them on such occasions ; 
but if we hear them in the drawing-room or at the 
place of business, they do not sound well. Modesty 
does not turn away abashed from the partial naked- 
ness of the Indian, as he is seen in his native wilder- 
ness, but she would blush to see his scanty vestures 
adopted by the citizens of the metropolis. 

Christians, and those who have been religiously ed- 
ucated, do well to bear in mind that some parts of 
the scriptures which, by reason of long familiarity, 
do not offend their ears, may not be the most eupho- 



278 THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 



xrious to persons who are not habitual readers of the 
Bible. Hence, they should frame their speech less 
by their own notions of decorum than by those of 
their fellow-talkers. 

Still, it must be owned that we may go absurd 
lengths out of tenderness for "itching ears," and the 
mawkish tastes of the world's denizens. Some re- 
fined Christians, in their religious utterances, take a 
deal of trouble to keep aloof from certain words, be- 
cause vulgar use has, in their estimation, tainted 
them, not considering that the vulgar cannot taint a 
word by any abuse of it, so long as people of taste do 
not consent to disuse it. Though it is with great dif- 
ficulty that we can bring ourselves to find fault with 
any member of that persecuted body of men, the 
clergy, we would respectfully ask leave to suggest 
whether some of them are not coming to be quite nice 
enough on this score. Some divines, in quoting this 
scripture : " Martha said, Lord, by this time he 
stinketh," would fain say, "by this time he emitteth 
unpleasant effluvia." Instead of " Be not drunk with 
wine," they would say, "Be not intoxicated with 
wine." In describing our Saviour's passion in Geth- 
semane, they would say, " He perspired as it were 
great drops of blood." The Rev. Dr. Griffin used to 
tell an anecdote of a clergyman who said, in the 
course of a sermon, "My dear hearers, unless you re- 
pent of your sins and turn unto God, you will go to a 
place that it would be indelicate to name before so 
refined an assembly." 29 Few things are more unbe- 
coming the sacred office than an affectation of gentil- 
ity. "When John Wesley told his preachers they had 

29 In President Dwight's satire, " The Triumph of Infidelity," al- 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 279 



no more to do with being gentlemen than they had 
with being dancing-masters, he meant that they were 
not to affect extreme delicacy in the pulpit. We 
should make a difference between the official and the 
private address of the clergyman, just as Shakspeare 
does between the bearing of the courtier when in the 
palace and when he is on the field of battle. 

M Courtiers as free, as debonnair, unarmed, 
As bending angels, that's their fame in peace ; 
But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls, 
Good arms, strong joints, true swords, and Jove's accord: 
Nothing so full of heart." 

Those little elegances of speech which do not mis- 
become the drawing-room, do not sound well coming 
down from the pulpit. The preacher who is careful 
to mould his words to fastidious ears, or to curve his 
gestures to the admiration of the graces, betrays a 
want of earnestness. Ezekiel, when he had seen the 
visions of God by the river of Chebar, would have 

ready quoted in an earlier part of this work, a kindred character is 
happily described : 

" There smil'd the smooth Divine, unus'd to wound 

The sinner's heart, with hell's alarming sound. 

No terrors on his gentle tongue attend ; 

No grating truths the nicest ear offend. 

That strange new birth, that methodistic grace, 

Nor in his heart, nor sermons found a place. 

Plato's fine tales he clumsily retold, 

Trite, fireside moral seasaws, duU as old ; 

His Christ, his bible placed at good remove 

Guilt heU-deserving, and forgiving love. 

'Twas best, he said, mankind should cease to sin ; 

Good fame requir'd it ; so did peace within : 

Their honors, well he knew, would ne'er be driven ; 

But hop'd they still would please to go to heaven." 



280 THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.. 



made a very unseemly change, had he next been 
found adjusting his locks by a curling iron, or taking 
lessons of a posture-master. A sacred, grave sim- 
plicity, is the only fitting adornment of a grave mes- 
sage, deeply pondered, and passionately urged. If 
the preacher only makes his hearers understand and 
obey the gospel, he effects the great object of his 
ministry ; if he does this, let some exquisite listener 
make him an offender for a word if he must. He 
may answer him in the spirit of Demosthenes, when 
he said to a snarling critic: "The fate of Greece 
does not depend on an ill-chosen word." These re- 
marks are to the full as applicable to the laity as to 
the clergy. Let them take heed, lest in their prayers 
and exhortations they refine away the dignity and 
force of the sacred Saxon by the unnecessary use of 
words of Greek, Latin, or French extraction. Our 
religion does indeed require us to be true gentlemen, 
but it requires infinitely more — it binds us to the 
faithful performance of duties vastly more serious 
and noble than any the mere gentleman, commonly 
so called, can or will perform. 

But we are wandering from our subject. Some 
occasional turns of expression in our version are now 
obsolete, in what is misnamed "good society," and 
were a new version to be made in the nicest adapta- 
tion to modish refinement, its language would, in no 
long time, be equally obsolete there. Many of the 
phrases current in the circles of giddiest Fashion, in 
Chesterfield's time, took no root in the language, and 
would now sound more uncouthly than the phraseology 
of Shakspeare's time or Milton's. Had a version 
been made by some purist or euphuist of those 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 281 

circles, what he would have meant for refinement, 
would seem to us, in the present time, the height of 
brainless affectation. In double-refined circles, not 
only are all scriptural ideas avoided, but the very- 
words in which they are wont to be clad. Evangelical 
religion, with all its accompaniments, always must be 
as it always has been, obsolete, antique, and in bad 
fashion among them. We must venture to say that 
were we to strip the sacred volume of the venerable 
garb which it has so long worn, and, pranking it in 
a suit of modern coxcombry, to introduce it to the 
fashionable circle, to make graceful obeisance, and 
speak to fine ladies in polite circumlocutions, it would 
soon lose cast there, and become as impolite as ever. 
What of heaven was left about it, in its new guise, 
would be enough to chill and repel the fashionable 
patrons it sought, and it would be voted, like a wan- 
ing beauty, to be " a little faded." 

When Col. Gardiner, after his conversion, carried 
amid his old associates his finished courtesy and 
dignity of manner, they did not save him from being 
counted unfashionable. His new love for prophets 
and apostles, his attachment to the Decalogue and 
the Sermon on the Mount, were sufficient to forfeit 
for him the smiles, the sympathies and the plaudits 
that once awaited him. The world hated him, be- 
cause it hated his new Master. Whilst Christians, 
then, are sedulously to avoid giving to the world 
aught of needless scandal, they are not to flatter 
themselves that anything short of God's regenerat- 
ing grace can abate and annihilate the old " offence 

OF THE CROSS." 

We should aim in our intercourse with society, to 



282 THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 



convey religious ideas in a vehicle as finished and 
comely as fidelity to the truth will admit. Yet pro- 
priety does not require us to keep clear of those 
scriptural words and phrases which, though the vul- 
gar and the vicious have prostituted them, have not 
essentially any offensive signification. It is de- 
cidedly improper to turn aside from such a word, 
where from the connection its utterance is expected, 
or to manifest any misgivings or confusion in pro- 
nouncing it. It is silently informing the hearers, 
that we are no strangers to those vile people who de- 
file the privileged vernacular of every child of God, 
and he informs those who would otherwise never 
have known it, that the word has a bad sense. If 
we are not to use any of the words that have, at 
sundry times, been vulgarized, we must refrain from 
speaking English altogether. With a view to guard 
the language against such spoliations, all who, by 
any sad accident, have heard words used in a low 
signification, should be careful not to betray their 
degenerate knowledge in respectable society, and so 
leave others in holy ignorance of the corruptions of 
human speech. Men of taste take this course; and 
it is a significant fact, that there are many words and 
expressions very freely used in the most cultivated 
circles, which are scrupulously shunned as indecent 
by the rude and vicious, on occasions of formal inter- 
course with the more refined orders, and with one 
another. 

Besides words which, originally or in a secondary 
sense, have no indelicate or vulgar meaning, but 
which have received such significations from persons 
of depraved taste, there are others which were 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 283 

i 

originally significant of gross and material ideas, 
but are often used figuratively to denote spiritual 
operations or other moral or religious notions. Words 
of the latter class are, for the most part, to be avoided, 
for though some of them are very expressive and for- 
cible, they almost always lead the mind of the hearer 
from the figurative and becoming, to the literal and 
indecorous import. 30 

John Foster, in his third and fourth letters on the 
aversion of men of taste to evangelical religion, con- 
demns the free use of certain words of the received 
version which are obsolete, and recommends the sub- 
stitution of current synonymes. He would also have 
us avoid words which belong to the theological dia- 
lect and religious cant, allowing us, however, in 
speaking on religious subjects, to use all such scrip- 
tural words and technical terms for which equivalent 
words and terms cannot be found except in the form 
of definition or circumlocution. But grave changes 
in the language of religion have generally heralded, 
and have universally occasioned a desertion of the 
true ideas taught in the language so relinquished. 
It is a significant fact, that the great innovators in 
religious phraseology have been, nearly to a man, 
innovators in doctrine, and some of them notoriously 
and fatally heretical. In the ancient church, the 

30 We need not cite examples of this class of words. They wiU 
readily occur to every reader. On this subject Cicero remarks : " Fu- 
gienda est omnis turpitudo earum rerum, adquas eorum animos, qui 
audiunt, trahit similitudo. Nolo morte dici Africani castratam esse re- 
publican! : nolo stercus curiae dici Glauciam : quanivis sit simile, tamen 
est in utroque deformis cogitatio similitudinis. Be Oratore, 1. iii, c. xli. 
The adjective, pregnant, is one of the least exceptionable of this 
class. 



284 THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 



Alexandrian school of Philosophy, Syresius, the Pla- 
tonist, the Gnostics, and the Rationalizing branch of 
the Mystics, are exemplifications of this remark. 
Such substitutions create a chasm instead of a 
bridge between the secular and the inspired mind. 
And further, as to what are called the obsolete words 
of our version, they are not and never can be obso- 
lete in the sense in which those of a mere secular 
work are so ; and the current of the best writing is 
at present rather in favor of restoring to the ordinary 
dialect than of removing some of these old, dishon- 
ored, but honorable words. 31 

In attempting to express religious ideas with plain- 
ness, precision and force, Christians sometimes ven- 
ture to coin words and form unlicensed alliances of 
words. Thus have many awkward forms of speech 
crept into evangelical literature, and received the 
sanction of the best usage. It may at times be ne- 
cessary to coin a word for immediate use, and ones 
taste is put to the test by such extemporaneous in- 
ventions. Butler accuses Hudibras of a want of 
judgment in this particular. 

. ..." he could coin or counterfeit 
New words with little or no wit ; 
Words so debased and hard, no stone 
Was hard enough to touch them on ; 
And when with hasty noise he spoke 'em 
The ignorant for current took 'em." 

The words which are sanctioned by good usage fail 
in many cases to give full expression to the feelings 

31 Robert Hall, fastidious as he was, made some just animadversions 
on the opinions advanced in the letters above mentioned, in his Review 
of Foster's Essays. 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 285 

of the pious soul. None but those who have under- 
taken to write on religious subjects, can know how 
meagre our language is in approved materials for the 
elegant treatment of them. This meagreness is no- 
where more manifest than in the department of Chris- 
tian experience, — here a distinguished man of letters, 
himself an author of the first rank, pleasantly checks 
my pen with the remark ; "I trespass upon your good 
nature ; but have you read what Macaulay has written 
on the range, richness, and power of John Bunyan's 
dialect as it is unfolded in a book strictly and exclu- 
sively of religious experience — 6 The Grace Abound- 
ing?' I am ready, sir, to pit that book for power 
and compass of expression, against nearly any classic 
of the language — meo periculo^ as Bentley said." 
46 Thank you, sir, for the suggestion," I reply; but 
with submission, I must ask whether even Bunyan, 
mighty in the Saxon as he was, never felt that his 
graphic words gave his readers very insufficient no- 
tions of his wonderful experience ? If I happen to 
understand myself, the idea I would be driving at is, 
that every writer, be his command of language what 
it may, must feel his poverty whenever he attempts 
to clothe his ideas of experience in an elegant garb. 
But let that pass ; every human language must of 
necessity be defective here, though none perhaps is 
less so than our own. The various feelings of the 
renewed heart can be indicated only by the most 
vague expressions. Many of these states of mind 
must ever in this life remain unknown to all but the 
soul itself. As soon as a man is regenerated, he be- 
comes, in many respects, a stranger and a foreigner 



286 THE STYLE OF C OK VEKS ATIOK. 

in these lower regions ; while his mind has under- 
gone a radical change, its medium of communication 
with other minds remains the same. He must then, 
while here, be content to use the language of idola- 
trous Egypt, and to hold converse with his fellow- 
mortals by broken accents and rude signs, till he 
goes up to the celestial Canaan, where he will find a 
language copious enough to answer all the demands 
of his ever-growing faculties. 

Christians should, in general, address one another 
by the appellative "brother" or "sister" only in 
religious assemblies, and in secular companies which 
are mostly composed of fellow-disciples, and in 
talking on religious subjects. These terms of ad- 
dress are most properly used among those who are 
nearly equal in age, office and honor. The fact that 
we are " all one in Christ" does not annul those laws 
of courtesy which require us to address people by 
their civil and ecclesiastical titles. It is true that, 
among Protestants, when one who is our superior 
has no such title, we are compelled to call him 
" brother" unless we style him " father," which we 
have high authority for doing, even though he be 
not our superior as to age. A marked superiority 
in piety, wisdom, learning or usefulness, is sufficient 
to license the use of this appellative, and a convert 
may properly use it in speaking to or of the man by 
whom he was led to believe. In conversing with 
those who erroneously confine the appellation to aged 
Christians, we do well to conform to their usage. It 
is a safe rule to apply it to those aged persons only 
who are thus addressed by general consent. A 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 287 

clergyman calls another clergyman " brother," but 
if the latter bears the title of M Bishop," " Doctor of 
Divinity," or " Professor," he addresses him by these 
titles. We should not call any person " father," 
" mother," " brother," or " sister," who has not been 
formally recognized as a Christian by a church : 
neither can we with any propriety give these endear- 
ing titles to those who do not belong to evangelical 
denominations. 

It is not advisable, in ordinary cases, to use the 
phrases "God willing," u Deo volente" "By Divine 
permission," " With leave of Divine Providence," in 
publishing a religious meeting. It is to be presumed 
that God is willing that men should worship him at 
any time. True, it may be objected that He may 
not be willing that announced speakers should live 
to fulfill their published appointments. But it re- 
mains to be proved, that so far as divine worship is 
concerned, God is not willing his servants should 
live to engage in it. He may have other reasons for 
calling them out of the world before the anticipated 
service ; yet surely he would be willing they should 
live to praise him, were there no other reasons for 
their departure. If any one quotes against us these 
words of Paul to the Corinthians, "I will come to 
you shortly, if the Lord will," we reply, that had 
Paul intended to go from Ephesus, where he was so- 
journing at the time, to Corinth directly by sea, he 
would have needed at least sixteen days ; but if, as 
is more probable, he intended to take the land-route, 
he would have consumed full thirty days in the jour- 
ney. And when we consider the dangers and hard- 
ships to which a traveller, and especially an apostle, 



288 THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 



was in that age exposed, we must conclude that it 
was no small undertaking — equal to that of a modern 
voyage from New York to Corinth. But inasmuch 
as he was not certain that he could visit them at all, 
it is likely that the phrase, " If God will," refers to 
the time either of his setting out on, or of his ending 
his journey, rather than to the perils of the way. 
The use of the adverb " shortly," favors this inter- 
pretation. In either case, the language of the apos- 
tle is no precedent for the usage in question, nor, we 
may add, for its being used in speaking of our ordi- 
nary vocations or engagements. The use of these 
phrases on all occasions sounds too much like cant. 
The proprietors of the stage-lines in England, used 
formerly to advertise that " they would be through 
by such a time, God willing" ! The language of the 
Apostle James is, "Go to now, ye that say c to-day 
or to-morrow we will go into such a city and con- 
tinue there a year^ and buy and sell and get gain? " 
These phrases are properly employed only in speak- 
ing of a very important undertaking, whether relig- 
ious or secular, the results of which are quite remote 
and uncertain; such as a voyage, a journey, or a 
new and very hazardous enterprize of any kind. 

This direction of James, however, was designed, 
not so much to guide us in speaking as in thinking 
of God's providence. We ought, no doubt, habit- 
ually and at all times to feel that we and all our 
projects and works are in an Almighty and All wise 
hand ; but where is the propriety of formally allud- 
ing to the fact on all occasions ? Those who scrupu- 
lously use the phrases in question, as multitudes do, 



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION. 289 

without any wonted realization of their meaning, 
come farther short of the requirement than those 
who continually cherish a sense of the Divine Sover- 
eignty, while they are less punctilious as to forms 
of speech. 



CHAPTEE XVII. 



PHYSICAL HABITS IK CONVERSATION. 

Distinctness of pronunciation is desirable in fa- 
miliar talk, though it is not so needful in conversa- 
tions as in orations, lectures, and sermons. Here we 
are occasionally allowed " to speak trippingly on the 
tongue" while " mouthing," and a laborious coining 
of syllables, are the sure marks of bad sense and bad 
taste. To talk without effort, either of thought or 
tongue, is charming, especially on gay themes, so it 
be not attended with heedlessness and thought- 
lessness. Nothing is more vexatious than precipi- 
tancy and abruptness. These faults, it is true, often 
result from the nature of the sentiment expressed. 
On this point. Sir William Temple has a good idea. 
He says, " Good breeding is as necessary in conver- 
sation, to finish all the rest, as grace in motion and 
dancing. It is harder to dance a courant well than 
a jig / so in conversation, easy and agreeable sen- 
timents are more difficult than points of wit, which, 
unless they fall of themselves naturally and not too 
often, are disliked in good company, because they 
pretend to more than the rest, and turn conversation 
from good sense to wit, from pleasantry to ridicule, 
which are the meaner parts." The tongue should 
commonly dance the courant) so it does not dance 
all night. 



PHYSICAL HABITS IN CONVERSATION. 291 

Lord Bacon has the following wise remarks on 
speaking leisurely : " In all kinds of speech, pleasant, 
grave, severe, or ordinary, it is convenient to speak 
leisurely and rather drawlingly than hastily ; because 
hasty speech confounds the memory, and oftentimes, 
besides the unseemliness, drives a man either to 
stammering, a nonplus, or harping on that which 
should follow; whereas a slow speech confirmeththe 
memory, addeth a conceit of wisdom to the hearers, 
besides a seemliness of speech and countenance." 

It is a valuable fact that we can keep our temper 
equable and pleasant by attending to the key in 
which we speak. A low tone is best when we are 
angry. By addicting ourselves to speak in a sub- 
dued and melodious voice, we can greatly improve a 
hasty and imperious disposition. There is a singular 
and useful speculation on the Music of Speech in the 
second volume of the Philosophical Transactions. 
The tenor of the writer's article here follows : " Sit- 
ting in some company," says the writer, " and hav- 
ing been but a little before musical, I chanced to 
take notice that, in ordinary discourse, words were 
spoken in perfect notes ; and that some of the com- 
pany used eighths, some fifths, some thirds, and that 
those were most pleasing whose words as to their tone 
consisted most of concords ; and where of discords, 
of such as constituted harmony ; and the same per- 
son was the most affable, pleasant, and best-natured 
in the company. And this suggests the reason why 
many discourses which one hears with much pleasure, 
when they come to be read scarcely seem the same 
things. From this difference of music in speech, we 
may also conjecture that of tempers. We know the 



292 PHYSICAL HABITS 1ST CONVERSATION. 



Doric mood sounds gravity and sobriety; the Lydian, 
freedom ; the JEolic, sweet stillness and composure ; 
the Phrygian, jollity and youthful levity ; the Doric 
soothes the storms and disturbances arising from the 
passions. And why may we not reasonably suppose 
that those whose speech naturally runs into the notes 
peculiar to any of these moods, have a corresponding 
disposition ?" 

Accordingly, we must beg to recommend that some 
ladies and gentlemen put themselves under the dis- 
cipline of a singing-master, and devote a few even- 
ings to the gamut before they venture more to rasp the 
ears of their friends and foes at home and abroad. 
What a millenium would it be if spinsters could only 
be persuaded to spend less time in biting their lips, 
and more in seeing that they be the channels of a 
clear, bland, and mellifluous speech! Would that 
young ladies would occasionally lay aside the harp 
and the guitar, to chant the prose they are used to 
speak so untunably in the ears of their parents, and 
brothers and sisters. Would that Madame Whiner 
might exchange her eye-glasses, or her gold watch, 
or her gold cross, for a pitch-pipe, and especially 
send her dear poodle to the shambles, whose squeak- 
ing noise she is in great danger of copying. I will 
leave "the music of the spheres" to aeronauts, if 
you will only give me the music of a kind and good- 
natured human voice. But we must also guard her 
against speaking in too soft and languishing accents, 
as if she were ever on the point of expiring. 

A natural or affected hissing is sometimes produced 
by striking the tongue against the edges of the teeth, 
particularly if they are artificial. Besides being 



PHYSICAL HABITS IN CONVERSATION. 293 

rather disagreeable, it makes one throw out saliva. 
Too large a tongue will produce this habit, while too 
small a one may produce stammering. Whispering 
and reading aloud with a view to these faults, if per- 
severed in, will generally correct them. The pronun- 
ciation may be made thick and indistinct by too much 
saliva in the mouth. In this case, it should always 
be swallowed before beginning to speak, and at in- 
tervals while talking. Attention to these trifling 
hints would greatly improve some people's elocution. 

We frequently meet with loud laughers and talk- 
ers, whose whole aim is to draw off the attention of 
the company from what they are engaged in, and 
fix it upon themselves. This is the common arti- 
fice of vain young ladies and dandies, whose highest 
enjoyments in society consist of laughing, stamp- 
ing the feet, and clapping the hands. JSTor can I 
pass over the set of whisperers who, when any one 
comes into the room, duck down their heads, and 
inquire who he is, or tell all they know about him ; 
at the same time staring him full in the face, or, in 
a tone just audible to the bystanders, speak about 
private affairs, and ask, u How is that matter coming 
on?" 

Beware of indulging in too many and extravagant 
gestures. Be not so cautious, however, as to put 
your hands into your pockets, and, when standing, 
swing your body to and fro like the dancers in a se- 
raglio. Dr. Johnson once, in company, laid hold of 
the hands of a pantomimic little Frenchman, and 
held them fast. He disliked gestures. His opinion 
on the subject is given in his life of Dr. Watts, who 
thought they were of little use even in preaching. 



294 PHYSICAL HABITS IN" CONVERSATION. 



But an avoidance of all gesture is affectation, unless 
a man has been smitten with a palsy. Some san- 
guine and volatile people toss about their limbs in 
conversation as nimbly as they do their tongues. To 
witness their actions for five minutes is enough to 
make one resolve never to lift his finger again. They 
remind one of the old actors in comedies : when they 
said memini they would point to the back part of 
their head ; when they said video, they would put 
their fingers in their eyes. 

Some deem it a mark of respect ever to eye those 
whom they are talking with. It is a good practice in 
general, but it is a bad one in particular. There 
are those who will watch your eye intently, that they 
may ascertain the effects of their discourse, or keep 
their necks awry when they are seated at your side. 
It is a mark of modesty in children to turn their faces 
towards, but not to look at a stranger who is speak- 
ing to them. Then, there are shy and nervous people, 
who do not like to be continually confronted by the 
visage of the talker. Nevertheless, if a person be 
not deaf, it is an incivility for him to keep his ear 
steadily turned towards the speaker. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 



Preparation for talking should, for the most part, 
be indirect. The observation, thought, and reading 
of years, on a wide range of subjects, are a more re- 
liable aid than special preliminaries for talking on a 
particular subject or at an appointed time. Most 
conversations are of a rambling and desultory char- 
acter, so that it is not often practicable to put forth a 
prepared opinion, or to bring others to take sides on 
our favorite question. The attempt sometimes has an 
air of malapropos and abruptness ; it opposes the 
general mood, and makes the circle formal and un- 
free. It is said that William Wilberforce used to 
note down the topics to be started ; and this, per- 
haps, is all that is allowable to one who is expected 
to lead off a talk. Johnson, who was mighty in con- 
versation, said he wished one day's notice if he was 
to meet Lord Thurlow. It would imply, that in that 
case he intended tamake some preparation, and that in 
other cases he did not reject all " cramming" for the 
rencontre. Little reliance, however, is to be placed 
on themes previously chosen, inasmuch as it often 
happens that he who is expected to take the lead can 
only do so by adapting himself to the spirit and char- 
acter of the company. Still, he must not be so com- 



296 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 



plaisant to the ruling tone as to start indecent topics ; 
like the elder Walpole, who said he always talked 
bawdry at his table, that all might be able to bear a 
part. The chief converser is, in a great degree, an- 
swerable for the spirit of the company, and has it in 
his power to turn it into a high and useful channel. 
And, by-the-bye, every one should go into society 
with a purpose to turn subjects broached there to good 
account ; he will, in this way, be more useful than by 
a direct aim to converse on none but serious topics. 

Themes of general interest are preferable to all 
others. Among these are religion, morals, politics, 
education, nature, art, science, literature, health, and 
the weather. Next to these must be ranked those 
which are of a purely local kind, and interesting only 
to certain coteries. Lastly, those which concern only 
private individuals. The latter are admissible only 
among relatives and friends. 

The themes generally current in town differ from 
those in the country. This holds true among almost 
all ranks. Religious people in the country talk more 
frequently and intelligibly on scriptural and moral 
subjects. People of fashion in the country talk more 
intellectually than the same class in town. Horace 
says that the conversation in Eome ran on the villas, 
families of foreigners, and the theatre ; while, in the 
country, the questions discussed were whether riches 
or virtue more becomes man ; whether utility or recti- 
tude more influences us in forming our friendships ; 
what is the nature of good, and what is perfection. 
The same distinction, in the main, exists to this day. 
The variety and interest of events in town are unfa- 
vorable to meditation, philosophizing, and discussion. 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 297 



Objects of the senses are more talked of than those 
of thought, and matters of taste in preference to those 
of utility. In general, there is less of what is local 
and pedantic in town talk, and more of books and 
human nature in rural discourse. In town, the scan- 
dal is chiefly confined to the newspaper ; in the coun- 
try, it is circulated by the drones of the village. It 
is a propensity of the ignorant, in all situations, to 
allow trivial matters to engross their talks. A ru- 
mor, an accident, or a neighborhood quarrel, or a 
family feud, a trial before the justice of the peace, 
or the freak of a school-boy — these are enough to keep 
their tongues in perpetual motion. So vacant is the 
life of the illiterate, that the slightest occurrence is 
magnified into an event of vast importance, even as, 
to travellers in a desert the smallest shrub which 
lifts its head above the unbroken waste, awakens an 
interest which a forest would not in one who was 
passing through a fertile region. 

Eeading adds to one's stock of ideas, and conse- 
quently to the subjects of discourse. Histories, biog- 
raphies, books of travel and of the natural sciences, 
reviews, newspapers, narratives of recent events, and 
an extensive correspondence, furnish the best matter 
for general conversation. To those who would be 
qualified for the company of the educated and the 
refined, some knowledge of the art of painting, sculp- 
ture, music, poetry, eloquence, the sciences, profes- 
sional information, and current literature, are highly 
valuable. The Christian and all others indeed, 
should add to these an acquaintance with ecclesias- 
tical history general and denominational, missionary 
intelligence, reports of benevolent operations, and 

N # 



298 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 



evangelical literature, especially biographies of pious 
persons. 

But above all, the converser should have a thorough 
knowledge of the Bible. He should make its pages 
his daily study, and read such commentaries and 
other works as serve to illustrate its truths, clear up 
its obscurities, and discuss its doctrines. Its theology, 
morals, laws, history, poetry, and eloquence, should 
be familiar to him. Such a knowledge will give him 
a great advantage in all companies ; for there are 
few books of which the generality live in such miser- 
able ignorance, as of the book which reveals their 
eternal destiny. It is no despicable acquisition to 
be versed in a book which has for thousands of 
years been fixing the fate of other books, either 
lending them its protection, or sinking them in ob- 
livion in the calm shadow of its reprobation— which 
has set up and cast down thrones, appointed the 
bounds of empires, and marked out the track of 
civilization, given wisdom to the sagest lawgivers, 
furnished models even for the highest secular elo- 
quence and poetry, 32 and is now putting to the proof 
all creeds and all deeds. But its crowning merit has 

S2 The Lake Poets, as they have been somewhat vaguely called, 
"Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey, dwellers for a season or per- 
manently beside the Lakes of Westmoreland, have exercised a strong 
influence on English literature. De Quincey, himself a high proficient 
in the language, and in literary criticism, traces a part at least of their 
power to their admiration and use of the scriptural dialect. Fisher 
Ames, in his earlier time, the great orator of New England, was wont 
to recommend the Scriptures as a fountain of style ; and the yet higher 
son of New England, who has recently gone to the grave amid the re- 
grets and gloom of the nation — Daniel Webster — was an earnest ad- 
mirer and student of the same Divine Volume, as a repository of great 
images and phrases, no less than of great and peerless facts. 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 299 



not been mentioned. It was the sole guide of multi- 
tudes of pilgrims who are now reposing in paradise: 
on it rest the hopes of all the excellent now on earth, 
and is to be the trust of all saints in all the ages 
which are yet beyond us. 

It may not be amiss here to say, that though con- 
verses cannot too highly prize the Bible, some of them 
may be in danger of mistaking its design and prov- 
ince. It was intended to give us light as to religion 
and morals alone, and those who continually refer to 
it as authority on other subjects, do, in the estima- 
tion of unbelievers, lessen its authority within its 
own sphere. Though the oracles of God contain 
much scientific knowledge, it was not to instruct 
mankind in this that they were given to us. 

The converser should ever be pursuing a course of 
reading. He cannot at any time lay aside books, 
without leaving a void in his mind, which he can 
only fill by subsequent diligence. He who neglects 
the news of a single week, may be ignorant of the 
one event on which those of a whole year, nay, cen- 
tury, shall turn. And he who omits glancing at the 
new publications of the passing month may overlook 
the one book of the age, the last miracle of genius. 
And as the converser must be continually parting 
with his knowledge, so unless he is continually add- 
ing to his store, he is driven either to seek new so- 
ciety, or to afflict his old acquaintance with repe- 
titions. It is a very simple precept, yet one so valu- 
able that it is thought worth being ascribed to an 
ancient philosopher, that "If you wish your lamp to 
emit light, you must feed it with oil." 

We frequently hear it said that the prevailing rage 



300 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION". 

for reading, leaves the people little leisure for conver- 
sation, and less for meditation, which alone can make 
conversation a solid advantage. In some cases, it is to 
be feared, it has wrought this result ; as to the mass 
of the people, however, it would seem to be otherwise. 
How can there be less thinking than formerly, when 
the present habit of reading must suggest a thousand 
subjects of thought and discourse, where there was 
but one before jvhow can there be, when the atten- 
tion, perception, judgment, and imagination, which 
are necessarily exercised in most sorts of reading, are 
thereby better fitted for application to any subject 
whatever, than they would have been without such 
exercise? And inasmuch as those who are con- 
sidered great readers, are left to their own thoughts 
for some part of every day, they lack neither leisure 
for thinking nor preparation for it, as regards discip- 
line and matter. Nor does much reading necessarily 
put an end to independence and originality of think- 
ing. Ignorance is quite as destructive of these quali- 
ties as knowledge; prejudice, popular opinion, and 
common sense, as it is vulgarly understood (i. e., the 
mind's first thoughts and first feelings), are G-oths and 
Yandals, that trample down all intellectual freedom 
and power. It is only the great reader that can 
know when he is engaged in original thinking ; it is 
by his researches alone that he can ascertain what 
regions of thought lie untraversed ; and not being in 
doubt as to whether he is tracing an old path, or a 
new, he presses forward with all the self-reliance and 
enthusiasm of an explorer. 

Another means of preparation for conversation is 
the hearing of lectures. It is complained that a 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 301 



rage for lyceum lectures encroaches upon conversa- 
tion-meetings ; not so much because it disables the 
mind for preparatory reflection, as because it con- 
sumes the time which would otherwise have been 
devoted to conversation, and begets a race of smat- 
terers in superficial and second-hand knowledge. As 
to the question of time, were people to go to lectures 
every evening, or were they to spend the whole of 
every evening in hearing them, then might we make 
our moan over the imaginary desolations of conver- 
sation-rooms ; but extremely few have gone so far 
mad after lectures as to run to- them every evening, 
and those who have, contrive to find time enough 
before and after lectures to open and canvass their 
opinions on all sorts of subjects. The hearing of 
lectures, so far from laying the tongues of people to 
rest, always drives them to greater activity ; and. we 
have scarcely ever known a single tongue to move 
any long time in public, that did not set a good 
many more going in private. There is more occa- 
sion for the other lamentation, to wit, that mere lec- 
ture-going diffuses among the generality second- 
hand and superficial knowledge. All kinds of lec- 
tures, save those that are upon subjects which need 
illustrating by experiments, do not fix in the memory 
so large an amount of information as the same time 
improved in reading would do. The lecturer pushes 
forward to the conclusion, all along taking for grant- 
ed that hearers are not wanting in attention, per- 
ception, and memory; hence, the many who are 
wanting in one or more of these faculties, fail to 
profit by hearing a lecture to the same degree that 
they would by reading it at their leisure. In that 



302 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 

case they could read the more weighty or abstruse 
parts repeatedly, or if their attention flagged in other 
portions, they could go over the ground anew. 
Greater evils are, in my poor judgment, hatched out 
of the forbidden knowledge, than out of the super- 
ficial knowledge taught in popular lectures ; the 
stealing of such knowledge was the killing sin of our 
first parents, and repetitions of this primal theft are 
likely to be the killing sins of all generations of their 
children ; but let that pass. We fear that the mis- 
chief growing out of superficial knowledge is very 
generally supposed to be greater than it really is. 
Those lines of the poet, so incessantly quoted, begin- 
ning, u Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring," 
are too often construed into ill advice, inasmuch as a 
little of a good thing is better than none, and as in- 
toxication from shallow knowledge is better than 
drunkenness from deep ignorance, though both are 
bad enough for that matter. So far as the masses of 
the people are concerned, the question to be decided 
is not whether they shall acquire much knowledge 
or little, but whether they shall acquire little or none 
at all. There are multitudes who at nightfall find 
their minds so jaded with the business or dissipated 
with the pleasures of the day, that they have no heart 
to bend down to the earnest work of reading, but can 
muster attention enough to listen to what a tolerable 
lecturer has to say on a passably interesting theme. 
Such people will make better conversers by hearing 
a lecture occasionally, than they would were they to 
spend the same time in idleness or in the vain en- 
deavor to read. Another thing ; it is not absolutely 
necessary that they should be thoroughly acquainted 



PREPARATION FOR COVEESATIQN. 



303 



with a subject in order to take part in a conversation 
about it ; if, however, they would take a prominent 
part or take the lead — they do well to arm themselves 
at all points. Those who are not made better talkers 
will be made better listeners by the bits and ends 
of facts and principles which they in this way pick 
up ; they will not listen with the blank stare and 
confused manner of those who have yet to dream 
their first dream concerning the subject of talk. But 
the indirect benefits flowing from lectures are the 
largest tributaries to conversation ; the lecturer ex- 
citing in many of his hearers a literary curiosity, 
sets them upon a long and useful course of read- 
ing if not study, and so leads them away to distant 
and sequestered sources of information : exhibiting 
to them a few specimens of the ore of knowledge, 
they go and dig for themselves, and bring back 
a large amount of the same precious metal, and 
make it a circulating medium in the trade of con- 
versation. 

Habits of careful observation also add to the treas- 
ures of the converser. The books of nature, ani- 
mate and inanimate, spiritual and material, lie open 
before every man, but one dozes over them, another 
gives them a hurried reading, and another makes 
them a careful study ; the same may be said of the 
arts and sciences. The difference as to knowledge 
between one who observes and one who does not is 
immense : it is almost the difference between the 
living and the dead. Lock up the one in a dungeon 
and he will compose a system of mental philosophy ; 
lock up the other and he will merely ascertain that 
he is in the dark. The one, after a short excursion 



804: PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 

into the country, returns full of interesting accounts 
of his discoveries ; the other, after circumnavigating 
our planet, returns home only to tell us that he has 
voyaged round the world, and perchance brought 
home the scurvy. 

Again, he who would talk judiciously must add 
meditation to reading and observation. This will 
enable him to form correct judgments concerning the 
ideas with which reading and observation have sup- 
plied him. A man of thought makes the notions of 
others his own, by what he adds to or takes from 
them, by weighing them so as to stamp them with 
their just value, and by the feelings they rouse and 
the conduct they actuate. The reader who talks with- 
out previous meditation, is only a retailer of second- 
hand thoughts, which have cost him nothing but the 
storage, and have perhaps become mouldy by the 
keeping. If at any time he embraces a new doc- 
trine — and every novelty takes with him — he can 
offer no reason for adding another article to his 
creed. He forms his opinions amidst the hurry of 
talking, and of course often makes assertions in this 
circle which he contradicts in that. As he never 
ponders a subject, so his feelings are not propor- 
tional to its importance ; he talks now fervently on 
the most paltry themes, and now coolly on momen- 
tous ones. Or, if he is of a cautious turn, he is at a 
loss to decide on the plainest question, or speaks so 
guardedly that his mind seems always hovering on 
the dusky confines of light and darkness. He is so 
near the domains of Error, and is in so remote a 
province of Truth, that the latter is not proud to call 
him her own. 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 805 

Meditation will prepare the Christian to talk prof- 
itably on the subject of Christian experience, en- 
abling him to separate gracious affections from feel- 
ings which have been induced by the temperament, 
or by disease, or sympathy, or animal excitement, 
and bringing him to look with suspicion on all expe- 
riences which do not result in some practical virtue. 
He will be profited by a discriminating and cautious 
reading of such works as "Augustine's Confessions," 
" Bunyan's Grace Abounding," and " Halyburton's 
Memoirs." It is from a want of due reflection 
and study on the subject of their experiences, that 
Christians make it so small a part of their conversa- 
tions ; a subject which, if properly handled, has the 
wonder of a miracle, the thrilling interest of adventure, 
and the enchantment of poetry, blending together 
the highest excitement of perils incurred, and the most 
dazzling splendors of hope newly risen and never to set. 

Let the Christian also think of the attributes and 
government of God — the character, offices and mis- 
sion of our Redeemer — the person and work of the 
Holy Spirit — our disobedience, misery and obliga- 
tions, the history of churches, missionary operations 
among heathens, Mohammedans, Jews, Romanists, 
and others — Bible, tract and educational societies, 
especially the relation of these societies to ourselves 
and the church to which we belong ; the best plans 
for bringing evangelical truth to bear upon the com- 
munity in which we live, by means of Sunday schools, 
prayer meetings, and tract distributions. Though 
words can never evangelize the world, yet, if these 
enterprizes occupy our hearts and our hands as much 
as they ought, they will naturally claim a share in 



306 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 

our conversations. One of the vast and urgent prob- 
lems of our time is the relief of pauperism, and 
the mediating reconciliation of government between 
the oppressions of Capital and the anarchy of La- 
bor. In a high civilization, the clefts and rifts of 
want and vice seem deepening and darkening to- 
wards the abyss of Brutalism and Despair, as the 
heights of Luxury and Refinement still ascend and 
tower higher and higher into the freezing regions of 
Heartlessness and Pride. In what manner the un- 
failing Gospel shall be brought most directly and 
vigorously to bear against the evils of this contrast 
and dissonance, becomes to the lover of that Gospel 
a question of the highest interest from its bearings 
alike on polity, charity, and religion. 

The Christian converser should also reflect on the 
dealings of Providence with nations, churches, and 
individuals. If in every event and in the most com- 
mon occurrences may be discerned the hand of God, 
how comes it to pass that so little is thought or said 
of this important truth by those who believe that 
they are themselves led by that hand ? And how 
does it happen that they are used to call only unac- 
countable and extraordinary events " providences," 
as if we were always unmindful that the Lord reigns, 
except when we are startled by some great stroke of 
the Divine policy ? Though the heathens err in 
making a god of everything, they are wiser than 
some Christians in this, that they see God in every- 
thing. Let the pious converser regard it as a be- 
coming duty to notice those unobtrusive instances of 
the Divine superintendence which are too often over- 
looked by historians and philosophers. 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 307 



Finally, let the converser contemplate the works 
of Creation with a view to provide his mind with 
matter for talk. Here he may range at large ; those 
who will not converse with him on other subjects 
will on this. Let him then contemplate the garden, 
or the prairie, either the flower which a lady's fingers 
rear, or that which the ploughman's foot crushes 
to the earth ; the field of grain waving in the west- 
wind and shadowed with the passing cloud, or the 
dark primeval forest ; the sands and oases of the de- 
sert, the mountain with its mantle of snow and its 
girdle of clouds, or the valley where dwells perpet- 
ual spring ; the lake, the river, the cataract and the 
ocean — the earth with all its living and departed 
tribes : its modern and ancient changes, organic 
and inorganic — the heavens with their old and new 
worlds, all that the naked eye beholds around, the 
microscope beneath, and the telescope above us. 
Let him behold in the works of nature the wisdom 
and goodness of God. But these alone ? Nay, veri- 
ly. God's severity also is seen in the black cloud and 
the storm-wind ; the mountain-wave and the water- 
spout ; the thick darkness and the thunder-clap ; the 
quaking earth and the flaming volcano. And it is 
He who sends the piercing cold, and the damp, 
misty, and lowering day ; that instead of always 
looking abroad, we might betimes turn our thoughts 
back upon themselves, and that we might believe 
his word when we cannot see his smiles. He causes 
the thunder to be heard along with the falling rain, 
and darts the lightning athwart the bow of promise, 
that we might remember that he is a God of justice 
as well as of love. 



808 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 



Some advisers would have us conceal our ignor- 
ance in conversation, so that if we know little or 
nothing of the subject broached, we may yet dis- 
course on it with confidence and seeming intelli- 
gence. Now, we cannot counsel any one to make a 
show of knowledge he does not possess. Such an 
action deserves no better name than dissimulation, 
and often amounts to falsehood. Let us never be 
loth to own our ignorance whether it be avoidable or 
unavoidable: he who is thus ingenuous, will gain 
the friendship and the confidence of all wise and 
learned men. If he is not already knowing, he 
eventually will be. The rod with which he chastises 
his ignorance will goad him on to knowledge. 

The last preparation for the conversazione, which 
we shall mention, is self-conversation. Whatever 
knowledge we may derive from the above mentioned 
sources — to which we might add, an intercourse with 
the world — it cannot stand us in stead of an ac- 
quaintance with our own obliquities and failings. 
And let the tone of the companies we frequent be 
ever so devout, and the spiritual benefits we receive 
from them be ever so great, if we do not join self- 
communion with such conversations we may be quite 
sure that we are not making them in the highest de- 
gree beneficial to us. 33 

33 " He that would teach man's heart must learn his own. 
Up with thy torch then in that cavern drear, 
Nor shut thine eyes when hideous forms appear ; 
By the red flare from fearful darkness thrown, 
To thee must .passion's motley brood be known, 
Dark elves of thought, foul imps of guilty fear, 
Keen judgment's flash, which shows the vast and drear, 
Threatening in hideous ruin to come down. 



PREPAFATION FOR CONVERSATION. 309 

Self-discourse aids us in gaining a knowledge of 
human nature than which nothing is more valuable 
to the converser. The whole race is formed after one 
archetype, and all are alike in the main lineaments. 
To be sure a great deal is to be learned by studying 
men as we find them influenced by a variety of cir- 
cumstances. The multiform temptations to evil and 
encouragements to good which are set before them, 
bring to light many principles which might else 
have remained in the dark. While this is to be 
granted, it must not be overlooked that we may pos- 
sibly be versed in human nature as it is in other 
men, and yet be ignorant of human nature as it is 
in ourselves. It is this latter that is especially ad- 
vantageous to us in the commerce of society. The 
homely remark, often made respecting any one who 
has tact and address, that " he understands him- 
self," is literally true, if it be true at all ; for such 
a one will be found to owe more or less of his skill 
to self-knowledge. He who is ignorant of his own 
character is in danger of neglecting the proprieties 
which are due to others ; he who should so mistake 
his own stature as to think himself a pigmy, would 
be in continual fear of being trod upon, while he 
who should fancy himself a giant, might think he 
could tread upon others with impunity. 



Un scared through gloom of conscience thou must grope, 

Through passages of tortuous self must wind, 

And keep undimmed thy light, untom thy clue. 

So shalt thou learn to sound thy brother's mind, 

So minister to faith, so help to hope, 

So teach to shun the false, and seize the true." 

Rev. Robert W^ilsox Evans. 



310 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATIONS 



There is, perhaps, no precept in the sacred writings 
which should be more frequently practised in con- 
versation than that which is called the golden rule ; 
and yet no one can duly observe it, who does not also 
observe the golden rule of the Greeks, namely : 
" Know thyself" — words which were blazoned in let- 
ters of gold over the door of the temple of Apollo at 
Delphi. The former rule presupposes an accurate 
acquaintance with our own master passions, preju- 
dices, preferences, and antipathies. Without this, we 
can behave neither justly nor pleasantly towards our 
fellow-conversers. In all our talks, and especially 
when we have parted from the circle, and the music 
of the tongue has ceased to enchant us, it is wise to 
ask ourselves questions like the following: "How 
would I feel were I addressed on that subject or in 
that manner ? How would I be likely to interpret 
such a remark, or bear such an insinuation concern- 
ing myself or my friend ? How would I endure such 
an exposure of my ignorance or folly?" Nothing 
short of a profound self-knowledge can prepare us 
to answer such questions aright. 

As the thoughts which we entertain in retirement 
are apt to disclose themselves in the unguarded inter- 
course of society, we should daily ask ourselves what 
are our habitual ones, and take care that they always 
be of such a character as will prompt kind, ingenu- 
ous, and cheerful discourse. If we do not wish to 
betray enmity in our talk, we must not suffer it to 
rankle in the breast ; or if we would avoid boasting, 
we must keep clear of self-flattery when we are left 
to our own reflections ; as fondly recalling our strokes 
of wit or anecdotes, or thinking how much more ably 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 311 



we could have handled a subject than another did, 
how triumphantly we might have answered the op- 
ponent of another ; but it is not possible to specify 
all the recollections on which a vain mind dwells 
with fondness. 

Frequent self-discourse will keep our talks from 
growing tedious and trite. People who always harp 
upon the same topics, or repeat the same anec- 
dotes, do well to form a habit of calling to mind all 
their talks, and of marking to whom and where they 
exhibited their darling thoughts. Those who have 
had the honor of forming an acquaintance with them- 
selves, and of faithfully cultivating it, do not ride a 
hobby a great while, or if circumstances call them to 
talk on the same subject frequently, they do not, on 
all occasions, mount to the same pitch of vehemence, 
nor use the same phrases and illustrations ; by oc- 
casionally changing the caparisons of their hobby, 
they make it pass for no hobby at all. In this way 
they get the advantage of that tribe of critics who go 
into society on purpose to find fault, or else to brand 
people with absurd or scandalous names indicative 
of their foibles. When a wise man learns that these 
persons have so stigmatized him, he says nothing to 
anybody but himself, and immediately begins to re- 
form his manners, so that, should the name continue 
to be applied to him, the thing may disappear, and 
his enemies be proved unjust for any longer reproach- 
ing him with it. 

The tongue is, of all our organs, the most ready 
interpreter of the mind. It sends its roots far down 
the throat towards the heart, as if to declare, by its 
very situation, its close connection with "the inward 



312 PREPARATION" FOR CON VERS ATI ON. 



man." It is to be governed only by governing the 
mind, whose will is its law. In the work of self- 
conquest it is the last to leave the service of a rebel- 
lious heart ; and when it has been gained, there is 
nothing more to be won : "if any man offend not in 
word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to 
bridle the whole body." It is, therefore, only by the 
practice of introspection, and by often taking our 
minds to task, that this little and nimble member can 
be controlled. 

It will be a help to self-inquiry to consider what 
opinions others are likely to form of our words, and 
how they would sound were they to fall from the lips 
of another. One of the resolutions of President Ed- 
wards was, " Never to do anything which, if I should 
see in another, I should count a just occasion to de- 
spise him for, or to think any way the more meanly 
of him." We are such adepts in the art of finding 
out the faults of others, that we can detect our own 
most easily when in imagination we impute them to 
another ; by this means we are able to discover 
many blemishes which before escaped observation, 
as by the help of a mirror we can survey parts of our 
persons which we could not see by direct vision. 

Whoever has recalled at evening the conversations 
of the day, or the talk of a single interview, and has 
thought of the probable consequences of one mis- 
spoken word, must have wished that he had either 
said less, or else had said nothing at all. Such a 
self-recollection will convince him that, in general, it 
is more wise to hold the tongue than to talk, and 
teach him to guard his lips with ceaseless vigilance. 
" Suppose," says Richard Baxter, "you were to write 



PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 313 

down the idle words of a day — your own or any other 
prattler's — and read them over at night, would you 
not be ashamed of such a diary of vanity and confu- 
sion. Oh what a work might one thus write from 
the mouths of idle talkers ! What a shame would it 
be to human nature ! It would tempt one to ques- 
tion whether he be a reasonable creature, or whether 
all be so, at least. Remember that all your words 
are recorded by God and conscience, and that all 
this medley must be reviewed and answered for." 
Who has not cause to tremble at the thought, that 
every unprofitable word he has spoken, is noted down 
in the books which are to be opened in the day of 
final adjudication — when will be brought forward 
records not only from the archives of heaven and of 
conscience, but also from those of material nature. 
It is the opinion of Laplace, that the curves which 
are described by a single molecule of air, are sub- 
jected to laws as certain as those of the planetary or- 
bits, and it has been shown that the movements of our 
tongues give an impulse to the air, the results of 
which will be forever discernible by an All- seeing 
Eye ; so that to use the words of Mr. Babbage, "the 
atmosphere we breathe is the ever-living witness of 
the sentiments we have uttered." We may add, that 
the Omniscient Being who will behold all the effects 
on the material universe, of one vibrating atom, will 
also be witness to the effects on the moral universe, 
of the pulses of every communicated thought, which, 
in obedience to a higher law, is to be received and 
registered by myriads of minds throughout eternity. 
"Weigh w r ell thy words," is the solemn warning 

O 



314 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 



which both spirit and matter whisper in the ears 
every man. 

" O words ! not from immortal mind alone 
Immortal are ye sprung ; let heaven and earth 
Receive you, standing witness to your birth, 
And send you back when many years are flown. 
Not swallow comes more surely to its own, 
Nor nightingale renews her last year's mirth, 
Than ye return, in plenty or in dearth, 
Changed, yet the same : echo, yet living tone. 
From weeping hearts where ye have brooded long, 
From bosoms festering with deep offence, 
From minds that on your promise full have fed, 
To him that sent you ye return, all strong 
In ancient sound, and doubly keen in sense ; 
Nor will ye take repulse, O things of dread. ,; 

Rev. R. W. Evans. 



CHAPTEE XIX. 



ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 



In large mixed companies, as they are commonly 
arranged, free and familiar conversation is out of the 
question. There will be present strangers, whom we 
do not feel at liberty to talk with on every topic, and 
unconversable people who will not talk at all, having, 
as said the despondent Frenchman of some taciturn 
companion, a singular talent for silence. UTone but 
the most general and commonplace subjects can 
safely be started, and even these we are forced to 
touch upon with extreme caution and brevity. The 
knowing person must sacrifice his pleasure to ignor- 
ant people, or else they must sacrifice theirs to him ; 
and if a profitable conference is commenced, it is 
soon broken off by bringing forward something else. 
That the talk may be as unrestrained, and generally 
engaged in as possible, a large company should part 
off into small groups. Thus the separate circles will 
be able to entertain themselves, being so small that 
each person will have courage to say something, and 
each easily hear what others say. Conflagrations 
act in circles, and the fire of conversation seems to 
act in very small ones. These groups do away the 
diffidence which is apt to prevail when people are 
arranged along the walls like chairs in a hall. De 



316 ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 



Foe's solitary mariner, finding that lie could not 
tame his kids, or catch them by hedging them in a 
field two miles in circumference, altered his plan, 
and diminished the area of the enclosure fourteen- 
fold. 

Eating, as an accompaniment of talk, has some- 
thing to recommend it. By this act various sorts 
of people declare that they have common wants 
and gratifications, and that they are so near an 
equality as to warrant mutual affability. At dinners 
we should not talk too much during the first course ; 
it discommodes the speaker and annoys the listener. 
If we ever say anything, it should be something that 
requires no reply, much less a refutation. It is not 
honorable to attack our opponent when his mouth 
is so occupied with masticating, that he cannot de- 
fend himself. If he hesitates or seems confused, 
the party may think he is nonplused by the argu- 
ments of his adversary, when he is only nonplused 
by some delicious morsel. Mrs. Gore pleasantly 
argues thus: "as nature has allowed but one organ 
to perform the functions both of talking and eating, it 
is clear to me that she never intended man should 
speak and feed at the same time, but the contrary. 
These two excellent faculties of our nature should 
act separately, for when a good thing going into the 
mouth meets a good thing coming out thereat, they 
are almost sure to run foul of, and mar each other." 
Above all things, do not start a vexed question as 
soon as you have taken your place at the table. Peo- 
ple are pugnacious when they are hungry, and will, 
in all likelihood, deal severely with you if they are 
called out at that time ; besides, you run the risk of 



ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 317 

bringing down upon you the displeasure of the host- 
ess, for preferring the debate to the dinner, and for 
allowing it to grow cold while some gormand must 
sit and be tantalized by the dishes which are brought 
on. Tet the solemnity which is permitted to reign 
from first to last at many tables, is, to say the least, 
altogether unscriptural : "Eat thy bread with joy, 
and drink thy wine with a merry heart." (Eccl. ix. 7.) 
The host and hostess should aim to lead their guests 
into conversation, and not engross it all to them- 
selves. In " the feast of reason" they are best enter- 
tained who are permitted to entertain. The host and 
hostess should, in due season — and the sooner the 
better — be lost among their guests. " If," says the 
son of Sirach, " thou be made the master of the feast, 
lift not thyself up, but be among them as one of the 
rest ; take diligent care of them, and so sit down. 
And when thou hast done all thy office, take thy 
place, that thou mayest be merry with them, and re- 
ceive a crown for thy well-ordering of the feast." 34 

34 Tobacco smoking, as an accompaniment of household talk, is now 
principally confined to vulgarians, and the Camanche Indians. Cow- 
per, in his admirable poem on Conversation, makes a launch upon 
those smoking colloquists who 

"... with solemn interposing puff, 

Make half a sentence at a time enough ; 

The drowsy sages drop the drowsy strain, 

Then pause and puff, and speak and pause again. 

Such often, like the tube they so admire, 

Important triflers ! have more smoke than fire. 

Pernicious weed, whose scent the fair annoys ; 

Unfriendly to society's chief joys, 

Thy worst effect is banishing for hours 

The sex whose presence civilizes ours." 
Conversers who use narcotics, and stimulating and exhilarating 



318 ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 

As an interlude to conversation, and as a suggester 
of a fresh theme, reading is occasionally allowable, 
especially in small circles ; supposing always that it 
be with the consent of all, and the book be one of 
common interest. The reader should allow others to 
interrupt him with questions, objections, and remarks. 
The listener should give close attention, and not 
break in upon the reader with observations foreign to 
the subject. When the book opens a rich vein of 
talk, the reader should cheerfully lay it aside, and 
take a part in the colloquy. When the subject is ex- 
hausted, and the conversation flags, or is taking a 
wrong direction, the reader may return to his task, 
being careful not to continue it so long a time as to 
weary the group. We could not advise an author to 
read his own works, or a composer to sing or play his 
own pieces for a whole evening, going on without in- 
terruption, and locking up the lips of the circle in per- 
petual silence. Persons who are urged to contribute 
their own productions to the common entertainment, 
should reflect that none are likely to be so great ad- 
mirers of their performances as themselves ; and 
that how warmly soever the party applaud and cry 
encore^ brevity is a merit they will value more highly 
than they will venture to express. 

Another and more common interlude to conversa- 

drinks, are often betrayed into words and actions which would come 
with better grace from those who are stark mad. Whoever consumes 
more tea or tobacco, opium or wine, than the majority of his company, 
falls out of tone with them, and unwittingly commits a thousand indis- 
cretions which surprise and disgust them. Total abstinence ought to 
be the virtue of the conversationist who has any character to establish 
or support in society. 



ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 319 



tion is music. A long intellectual talk jades and ex- 
hausts the mental faculties ; a hymn, a song, or a 
tune, exhilarates and reposes them, so that they 
may return to animated and improving conference. 
Goethe's "fair saint" in her " confessions," speaking 
of the effect of devotional songs in parties, says : 
"They sat like jewels in the golden ring of a pol- 
ished, intellectual conversation ; and without pre- 
tending to edify, they elevated me and made me 
happy in the most spiritual manner." But Christians 
should refuse to fill up the intermissions of talk with 
the light and amatory songs which are so fashion- 
able. A great moral degeneracy in musical composi- 
tion has been going on of late. Many of the recent 
contributions to sacred melody are of the artificial, 
theatrical, and voluptuous kind. We may admire the 
ingenuity of the composition and the skill of the exe- 
cution — nay, and be filled with certain inflating sen- 
sations, but our souls are not drawn heavenward by 
the solemn and heart-moving tones of true devotion. 
Would that there might be a speedy return from this 
captivity, which is, in some respects, literally Baby- 
lonish, inasmuch as it causes those who are held cap- 
tive to hang their ancient harps upon the willows, 
and disqualifies them for singing the songs of Zion. 
Such music is allowed not only to mingle its strains 
with the praises of the congregation, but to ascend 
with the incense which curls towards heaven from 
the family altar. Indeed it is on the family hearth 
that this strange fire is first kindled, whence it is 
borne to the altars of religion. If Lycurgus forbad 
the Spartans all luxurious music, and if Plato would 
exclude from his model state all Lydian and Ionic 



320 ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 

airs, as being too sensual, should not every Christian 
parent, guardian, and teacher consider well the moral 
tendencies of the music, which is daily thrilling the 
hearts of children, and, as an authorized censor, deny 
his imprimatur to every song which ministers to a 
refined sensuality ? It is no wonder that those who 
have spent years over the pages of this class of Ital- 
ian, French, and German composers, should long to 
see them received into the fellowship of Christian 
music, and should lose all relish for the artless but 
full-souled and spiritual notes of our forefathers. 
While the Christian is not to be against musical inno- 
vations which are improvements, let him not cast 
aside those spiritual songs which have so long been 
the delight of all devout assemblies ; if heartily sung, 
even the man of the world will occasionally prefer 
them to those amatory ditties which he hears so 
often that their very name grates upon his ear. Let 
him not engross a whole evening with these ditties, 
so that, when the hour of prayer has come, he can 
only slur over a hymn in which the heart's voice of 
melody is not heard. Neither let him admit into the 
conversazione an alternation of sacred and profane 
pieces. Such an ill-sorted fellowship were worse 
than an entire exclusion of serious music. Let not 
the harp and the psaltery of David be heard blend- 
ing their strains with those of the pipe and viol of 
ungodly revellers. This were not only to profane 
holy things, but utterly to destroy them by allowing 
sacred harmonies to be swallowed up and drowned 
amid the demoralizing melodies of the world. 

We would not here be understood to condemn 
those songs which, though they have a high moral 



ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 321 



bearing, do not avowedly aim to assist devotion. 
There are occasions when such songs may more 
properly be sung than those of a more solemn kind. 
Collections of a deep moral and religious tone, adapt- 
ed to the drawing-room, are greatly needed, and it is 
hoped that pious poets anc^ composers will in no long 
time supply this deficiency. 

The last, but not the least important accompani- 
ment of conversation which we shall mention, is 
prayer. Aside from its higher designs, it is one 
of the best of mental recreations. The celebrated 
Haydn was accustomed to resort to prayer as a res- 
torative to his mental energies when they had been 
exhausted by long application to his musical studies. 
How becoming, and yet how uncommon it is for 
Christian circles to invoke the divine blessing on 
their conversations. When Christians meet together, 
though it be for an object not directly religious, let 
them not so far forget the adorable Eedeemer or 
themselves as wholly to confine their communion to 
one another, having not a word to say to Him who 
has promised to be among those who meet in his 
name. And though it is not always convenient to 
open parties with prayer, they may be closed with it; 
and in some cases short prayers may properly be in- 
terspersed among the parts of conversation. What 
if an address to the throne of grace should check 
awhile the blitheness of those who are strangers to 
their Divine Benefactor ? Even these will after- 
wards, in their moments of sober reflection, approve 
the action as honorable to the actors. Were a per- 
son of distinction present, all would think it uncourte- 
ous not to accost him nor allow him to take any part 

o* 



322 ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVEKSATI ON. 



in the conversation. If we are not-practical atheists, 
or at least those who believe that God has nothing to 
do with his own world, we must feel that it is treating 
him with great effrontery not to acknowledge his 
supremacy, presence, and grace in all collections of 
Christian people. Thrice # happy will be "the celes- 
tial nobility" when they shall aim to make each of 
their assemblies a levee of King Immanuel. 



CHAPTER XX. 



A HISTORY OF CERTAIN CONVERSATION- CLUBS ; WITH 
SKETCHES OF THE CONVERSATION OF JOHNSON, HAN- 
NAH MORE, COLERIDGE AND OTHERS. 

A full history of conversation-clubs would em- 
brace an account of the groups of talkers that used, 
in the patriarchal time, to gather under the shade of 
the vine and of the fig-tree, and in the gates of cities ; 
of the story-hearing crowds at Arabian caravansa- 
ries ; of the symposia of philosophers and the parties 
of Aspasia at Athens ; of the table-talks of Lucullus, 
Lselius, Atticus, Cicero, and Mecsenas at Rome, and 
her suburban villas. It would also tell of the din- 
ners of the mum and chattering monks and nuns in 
religious houses, and of knights recounting their ad- 
ventures in hospitable castles during the middle 
ages ; concluding with the principal talking-societies 
of the following centuries. But for fear we should 
fall into the error of them that when they have a 
short story to tell must needs begin with the founda- 
tion of the world, we make haste to say that it is our 
design only to take sketches of such of the modern 
notable conversation-clubs and conversationists as 
fall within the scope of a practical work, and yield 
some useful lessons. 



324 



CONVEKSATION-CLUBS. 



We will begin with that literary circle at Paris, 
which, from various causes, became more celebrated 
than any other, ancient or modern — that of which 
Madame de Sevign£ was the brightest ornament. 
Madame de Rambouillet assembled at her house a 
company of wits, among whom Yoiture, Balzac, 
Cbapelain, Benserade, Cotin, Desmarets, Yaugelas, 
Segrais, Bussy Kabutin, Rochefoucault, the mother 
of the great Conde, Mademoiselle de Scuderi, Mad- 
ame de la Suze, Madame de Grignan, and Madame 
de Sevigne. The greater number of these person- 
ages designated each other by anagrams, and the 
mistress of the house was christened variously Arthe- 
nice, Eracinthe, and Corinthee. This society has 
been accused of bringing into fashion that double- 
distilled jargon and insipid gallantry of which Made- 
moiselle de Scuderi has given an example in her ro- 
mance called Celie. Here they composed enigmas, 
madrigals, bouts-rimes^ sonnets, and rondeaus; and 
if we may believe some writers of that time, those 
verses were best received which were the farthest 
removed from everything natural in style. 35 La 

35 " All was done by rule — all adapted to a system. The lover en- 
tered on his amorous journey, knowing the stoppages he must make, 
and the dangers he must pass through on his way to the city of Tender- 
ness, towards which he was bound. There was the village of Billets-ga- 
lans, the hamlet of Billet-doux, the castle of Petits soins, and the villa 
of Mis Vers. After possessing himself of these, he still had to fear being 
forced to embark on the sea of Dislike, or the lake of Indifference ; but 
if, on the contrary, he pushed off on the river of Inclination, he floated 
happily down to his bourne. When ' an innocent accomplice of a false- 
hood' was mentioned, a Precieuse (they themselves adopted and gloried 
in this name) could, without a blush, understand that a night-cap was 
the subject of conversation ; water with them was too vulgar, unless 
dignified as ' celestial humidity ;' a thief could be mentioned when 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 825 



BruytSre has, with some exaggeration, described the 
conversationists which met at the house -of this lady : 
45 They surrender to the vulgar the art of speaking in 
an intelligible manner. When anything is said that 
is scarce understood, it is followed by something else 
which is still more obscure, on which they improve 
by downright enigmas, which are always followed 
by a long clapping of hands. By the help of all that 
they call delicacy, sentiment, and elegance of ex- 
pression, they succeed in not being understood, and 
in not understanding themselves. He who would be 
furnished for these conversations needs neither good 
-sense, nor judgment, nor memory, nor the least ca- 
pacity, but wit only, and that not of the best sort — 
merely that false wit in which the imagination bears 
sway." Moli&re dared to attack these absurdities in 
his Precituse Ridicules, a farce which was first 
played on the ISth of November, 1659. It pro- 
designated as ' an inconvenient hero and a lover won his mistress's ap- 
plause when he complained of her disdainful smile as 'a sauce of 
pride.' " This account of these circles by Miss Shelly, is drawn more 
from Mademoiselle Scuderi's novels and Molicre's comedy, than from 
any authentic chronicle. The following extract from her biography 
deserves more serious attention. ' : Purity of feeling, however, was the 
soul of the system. Authors and poets were admitted as admirers, 
but they never got beyond the villa of Jolis Vers. * * * Their style of 
life was as eccentric as their talk. The lady rose in the morning, 
dressed herself with elegance, and then went to bed. The French bed, 
placed in an alcove, had a passage round it, called the ruelle ; to be 
at the top of the ruelle was the post of honor ; and Voiture, under the 
title of Alcovist, long held this envied post beside the pillow of his 
adored Julie, while he never was aUowed to kiss her little finger. 
This folly had its accompanying good. The respect which the women 
exacted, and the virtue they preserved, exalted them, and in spite of 
their high-flown sentiments and metaphysical conceits, wits did not 
disdain to put a soul into the body of nonsense." 



826 



CONVERSATION -CLUBS. 



duced an extraordinary sensation ; 36 at the second rep- 
resentation the price to the pit was raised from ten 
to fifteen sous, and the price for the other places was 
doubled. The piece was acted at Paris four months 
without interruption. It was equally applauded at 
court, which was then held at Versailles. 37 

The leading characters in this farce are two ladies, 
whose principal faults are preciseness and coquetry. 
They make a free use of pomade, think it vulgar to 
call persons and things by their right names, and in- 
sist that they will not marry until after an eventful 
courtship conducted after examples set forth in ro- 
mances, and according to the code of gallantry. 
They talk in the mock genteel style, and vainly en- 
deavor to make their servants adopt the same. They 
are ambitious of the society of men of rank and let- 
ters, and belong to a literary circle where the burden 
of talk is, that one has written a madrigal on happy 
love; another has composed stanzas on unfaithful- 
ness ; Monsieur last night wrote a sexain to Made- 
moiselle, to which she sent him an answer at eight 
o'clock next morning ; this author is at work upon 
the third part of his romance, and that has put his 

36 Manage says, " I was present at the first representation. Made- 
moiselle de Rarabouillet, Madame de Grignan, M. Chapelain, and others 
of the Hotel de Rambouillet, were there. The piece was acted with 
great applause, and for my own part, I saw at once the effect it would 
produce. Upon leaving the theatre, I took M. Chapelain by the hand 
and said, 4 We have been used to approve all the follies so well and 
wittily satirized in this piece ; but believe me, as St. Remy said to 
King Clovis, we must burn what we have adored, and adore what we 
have burnt. It happened as I predicted, and we gave up this bom- 
bastic nonsense from the time of the first representation." 

37 See Moliere's Biographers and Editors. 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 327 



works to press. Such are the topics of gossip, with- 
out a knowledge of which, in their opinion, all wit 
and genius are not worth a pin. Two suitors of rank 
whom they have discarded, resolve to avenge them- 
selves, and to convince these conceited finical ladies 
of the folly of their tastes and pursuits, by dressing up 
two of their valets in the guise of noblemen, and 
sending them to make the acquaintance of these la- 
dies* The one who is to pass for a marquis affects 
the man of genius and condition, and looks down 
with disdain on other valets, calling them unrefined. 
He feigns surprise that the porter should demand 
his dues of a gentleman of his rank. He introduces 
himself to these ladies, and meets with a very cordial 
and flattering reception. They exchange compli- 
ments, and talk in a style of the most superfluous 
elegance. Our marquis is of that favored class who 
take all the arts in the natural way without the 
slightest application to study. He boasts of having 
in his day composed two hundred popular songs, as 
many sonnets, four hundred epigrams, and more 
than a thousand madrigals, to say nothing of enig- 
mas and portraits ; but his impromptus are wonder- 
ful — he lets off one which throws these fair creatures 
into raptures, one of them declaring of his interjec- 
tions, that she had rather be the author of " that 
oh ! oh /" than of an epic poem. The marquis in- 
troduces the other valet to them as a viscount who 
had been his companion in arms, and has received a 
wound in the back part of his head. In short, these 
noblemen take captive the ladies hearts, and while 
they are dancing with them they are surprised by 
their masters, who expose the whole plot, to the great 



828 CONVERSATION - CLUBS. 

mortification of their mistresses ; and offer the lack- 
eys liberty to continue their gallantries, and at the 
same time declaring that they will not be at all 
jealous of them. This farce needs to be read by 
those who would gain any tolerable estimate of it. As 
a description of the assemblies that met at the house 
of Madame de Rambouillet, it is to be received with 
many grains of allowance. It is the aim of comedy, 
according to Aristotle, to exhibit men worse than we 
find them ; and this literary circle was represented 
to be worse than it really was, not only by Moli&re, 
but by La Bruy&re, Voiture, Menage and others. 
Even Hannah More, in her zealous defence of the 
Blue Stocking Club, has hardly done justice to the 
Hotel de Rambouillet. After singing of its affecta- 
tions, she adds : 

" Nature of stilts and fetters tir'd, 
Impatient from the wits retir'd ; 
Long time the exile houseless stray'd, 
Till Sevigne received the maid." 

Now, when we have pardoned something to poetic 
license, these lines would seem to imply that Madame 
Sevigne did not belong to this very company of wits, 
and that she had no tastes and sympathies in com- 
mon with them. When, therefore, Mrs. More la- 
ments ; 

" No votive altar smoked to thee 
Chaste queen, divine Simplicity P 

she seems to have forgotten that there was in the 
temple of Rambouillet such an altar, of which Mad- 
ame de Sevigne herself was the priestess. Another 
and much-thronged altar to Affectation no doubt 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 329 



there was; but in a circle composed of the most po- 
lite and ingenious persons in France, there must 
have been not a few of the votaries of simplicity. 
Madame de Sevigne was more of a formative genius 
than not to have exerted a favorable influence in 
these companies. Some who have ridiculed in their 
writings this forced conceit and labored refinement, 
were themselves frequenters of these gatherings, and 
must by their own example have done, or at least 
were capable of .doing, not a little to counteract any 
faults of this kind. We have a reliable tradition 
that it was not unusual for those persons of purer 
tastes who frequented these assemblies to come away 
so weary of absurd and labored wit, that they used 
to express the comfort they felt in their emancipa- 
tion by saying : "Allons / faisons des solecismes /" 
" Come ! now let us go to blundering !" Could these 
persons have abandoned themselves to the absurdities 
which they so much disliked ? And then we are not 
to think that this quaint and superfine wit was al- 
ways indulged in as a serious employment, but often 
to give a lively and playful zest to the usual bill 
of literary amusements ; and, as generally happens, 
what was at first only seasoning became at length 
the , food which sickened all, and could not be re- 
stored to its former use. Besides, there prevailed in 
those times a merciless prejudice against women of 
wit and learning — a prejudice which still occasion- 
ally shows itself among the unlettered classes ; so 
that the language which would now be expected 
from the lips of a tolerably informed woman, was 
then sneered at as impertinence, pedantry, and a 
craving after the prerogatives of the other sex. 



380 



CONVEESATIOK- CLUBS. 



However prejudicial at first the houses of Kambou- 
illet and of Longueville may have been to a taste for 
the natural and the true, it appears upon the whole 
that the farce of Moli&re wrought a speedy reform 
in these assemblies. It is true many women sought to 
avoid the ridicule which had been inflicted upon wit 
and genius by taking refuge in philosophy and clas- 
sical learning. Thither Moli&re pursued them, and 
thirteen years after, in his comedy Les Femmes Sav- 
antes, made an attack upon female pretensions to 
superior knowledge and pedantic fondness for the 
philosophy of Descartes, at the same time showing 
that he held his old grudge against feminine geniuses 
by transferring the war against sonnets, puns, and 
madigrals to the higher grounds of classical literature 
and metaphysical science. Altogether this comedy 
drove out of society a little refined jargon, some 
pedantry, and nearly all taste for intellectual dis- 
course. 

About a century later we find the literary assem- 
blies of Paris altered for the better as to affectation, 
but for the worse in regard of intellect and morals. In 
the rival coteries of Madame du Deffand and Made- 
moiselles Lespinasse, Geoffrin and Boufflers, wit and 
infidelity, learning and lust, blasphemy and gayety, 
formed strange but congenial alliances ; Voltaire, 
D'Alembert, Helvetius, Eaynal, Marmontel, Oarrac- 
cioli, 88 D'Holbach, Galliani, and Vanloo, were among 
the distinguished persons who were in the habit of 
resorting to these parties. Hume, who was but 
coolly welcomed to the best literary circles of Lon- 

38 It may be well to remark, that Carraccioli was a believer in 
Christianity. 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



331 



don, was affectionately received into the bosom of 
these assemblies. 

Of all the Parisian literary coteries of this period, 
that of Madame du Deffand for a time took the lead. 
This lady had been married, but the match being an 
ill-suited and unhappy one, issued in a separation. 
Left with a moderate fortune, and a great reputation 
for wit and conversation, she gave up her hotel and 
retired to apartments in the convent of St. Joseph, 
where she continued to receive, almost every evening, 
whoever was most distinguished in Paris for rank, 
talent, or learning. She possessed great vivacity 
and strength of mind, a ready wit, clear conceptions, 
and superior reasoning powers, to which she gave 
utterance in words of the most lively and simple elo- 
quence. She was the author of that proverbial ion 
mot about St. Denis carrying his head under his arm, 
" 11 n?y a que le premier pas qui coute ;" — "It is only 
the first step that is difficult ;" " a saying sufficient," 
as one observes, "to make reputation in France." 
But with all these shining qualities she was egotistic, 
cold-hearted, selfish, given to detraction, and subject 
to frequent fits of anger, ennui, jealousy, and morose- 
ness. She was wont frankly to own that she could 
never bring herself to love anything, though in order 
to ascertain whether it was possible, she had several 
times attempted, with little success, to become a 
Romish devotee. We find her, in her old age, in 
her correspondence with Horace Walpole, still speak- 
ing of religion with too much levity, and confessing 
her scepticism as to many points of Christian faith, 
and apologizing for it as involuntary, and arising in 
part from her education, thus denying her native 



882 OONVERSATIOH*CLUBS. 



depravity, like Eeynard the Fox 5 in that old Teutonic 
story so true to human corruption, who, when led to 
the scaffold for his crimes, said in his speech to the 
crowd, that rapacity was no natural inclination of 
his, for in his youth he had been accounted as vir- 
tuous as any one breathing. In her youth she was 
greatly given to gallantry, and her faithlessness and 
disregard of all moral principle were such as could 
never for a moment have been endured anywhere 
but in the society of infidels to which she be- 
longed. President Henault was ter lover in her 
youth, and though he afterwards refused any longer 
to sustain that character, he continued to be her friend 
as long as he lived. His character of her has come 
down to us, and is the least flattering of any that 
flowed from the pens of her admirers ; it ends as fol- 
lows : " In order not to betray too much prejudice, 
and to obtain more confidence for what I say, I will 
add, that age, without diminishing her talents, has 
rendered her jealous and suspicious, yielding to her 
first impulses, and awkward in managing the men 
whom she might have easily controlled. In a word, 
she is of irregular humor, unjust, and ceases to be 
amiable to those persons only in whose society I have 
been most happy, and most unhappy, because it is 
her whom I have loved most." The following anec- 
dote of Madame du Deffand and Henault, is said to 
be perfectly authentic, and the moral of it is so good 
that we cannot refuse it a place. The incident which 
it relates occurred in their youth, before their mutual 
alienation had sprung up. They were both com- 
plaining one day of the continual interruptions which 
they met with from the society in which they lived. 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



333 



"How happy would we be," said the Marchioness, 
" to have a whole day to ourselves." They agreed 
to try whether this was possible ; and at last found a 
small apartment in the Tuilleries, belonging to a 
friend, which was unoccupied, and where they pro- 
posed to meet. They arrived accordingly, in sepa- 
rate conveyances, about eleven in the forenoon, ap- 
pointed their carriages to return at midnight, and 
ordered dinner from an eating-house. The morning 
was passed entirely to the satisfaction of both, in ex- 
pressions of love and friendship. "If every day," 
said the one to the other, " were to be like this, life 
would be too short." Dinner came, and before four 
o'clock, sentiment had given place to gayety and wit. 
About six the Marchioness looked at the clock, 
"They play Athalie to-night," said she, "and the 
new actress is to make her appearance." "I con- 
fess," said the President, "that if I were not here, I 
should regret not seeing her." "Take care, Presi- 
dent," said the Marchioness, " what you say is really 
an expression of regret ; if you had been as happy as 
you profess to be, you would not have thought of the 
possibility of being at the representation of Athalie." 
The President vindicated himself, and ended with 
saying, " Is it for you to complain, when you were 
the first to look at the clock, and to remark that 
Athalie was acted to-night ? There is no clock for 
those who are happy." The dispute grew warm; 
they became more and more out of humor with each 
other; and by seven, they wished most heartily to 
separate. That was impossible. " Ah !" said the 
Marchioness, "I cannot stay here till twelve o'clock, 
five hours longer, what a punishment!" There was 



334 



CONVERSATION-CLUBS. 



a screen in the room; the Marchioness seated her- 
self behind it, and left the rest of the room to the 
President. The President, piqued at this, takes a 
pen and writes a note full of reproaches, and throws 
it over the screen. The Marchioness picks up the 
note, goes in search of a pen, ink, and paper, and 
writes an answer in the sharpest terms. At last 
twelve o'clock arrived ; and each hurried off sepa- 
rately, fully resolved never to try the same experi- 
ment again. 

It is proof enough how utterly a stranger to these 
connections was every deep and holy affection, that 
the very evening Henault died, after an intimacy 
with Madame du Deffand of twenty years, she went 
out to Madame de Marchais's and supped with a 
great company ; and when her friends there spoke to 
her of her bereavement, she replied : " Alas, he died 
this evening at six o'clock : had it not been for this 
you would not have seen me here." " These were 
her very words," says La Harpe, who was present, 
" and she ate as usual very freely ; for she was a 
great gormand." The moment of final and awful 
separation caused her no sorrow, and in one of her 
letters she gives an account of his death with the 
most appalling indifference ; and there cannot be a 
darker or more faithful comment on the fiendish 
fruits of infidelity, than the letter of condolence 
which Voltaire addressed to her on this occasion. 

In her fifty-fourth year, Madame du Deffand lost 
her sight, and in order to made up as far as possible 
for the loss of this sense, she adopted Mademoiselle 
de Lespinasse, the illegitimate but well-educated 
daughter of a man of rank, as her companion, to read 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 335 



and write for her, and to assist her in doing the 
honors of her conversazioni. For awhile she was 
greatly delighted with the young lady ; by-and-bye 
however, she discovered that she who had at first 
been employed in the drudgery of reading her 
asleep, possessed an originality of thought, a ma- 
turity of judgment, and an easy and copious elo- 
quence, that bid fair to engross the attention and 
admiration of the coterie. As Madame du Def- 
fand, to whom day and night were the same, did 
not usually present herself till six o'clock in the 
evening, she often found that her protege had been 
entertaining the guests for an hour, and that they 
had come early to enjoy her conversation. She took 
the alarm, and drove from her house the fair rival 
whom she thenceforth regarded as a traitor and a 
usurper. Far from being a homeless wanderer by 
the dismissal, she was immediately supplied with a 
house and furniture by her friends, who obtained for 
her a pension from the crown, so that she now opened 
her own doors to a society not less brilliant than that 
of her patroness ; indeed she attracted to herself a 
greater part of the blind Marchioness' circle. The 
blind clear-seer, aveugle clairvoyante^ as Voltaire 
was used, to call her, told D'Alembert, that if he 
countenanced the new idol, he must bid farewell to 
his former patroness ; he did it, and lost no time in 
joining the party of the young aspirant, and became 
her most obsequious suitor — nay, the lackey of his 
jilting mistress in carrying to her from the post her 
billets from another and preferred rival. 38 Soon, 

38 Mademoiselle Lespinasse had resolved to raise her position by a 
distinguished marriage. With this view she endeavored to entangle 



336 



CONVERSATION -CLUBS. 



however, the health of Mademoiselle Lespinasse gave 
way before her inflammable and ambitious spirit. 
Tet while her heart was consumed with the fires of 
more than one passion, and she was wasting away 
with coughs and spasms, agitated with opium, and 
her thoughts were turned hourly on suicide, she dined 
out and made visits every day ; and within a few 
weeks of her death she still had her salon filled twice 
a day with gay company, and dragged herself out to 
sup with all the countesses of her set. She died be- 
fore she had attained middle age, and it is said that 
the mortifications caused by her alienation, followed 

the affections of M. Mora, a young Spanish marquis then at Paris. 
His family hearing of it, and recalling him to Spain, D'Alembert frau- 
dulently procured for her a certificate from an eminent physician of 
his acquaintance, to the effect that a return to the climate of France 
was essential to his safety. M. Mora set out for Paris but died on the 
road. "Thus crossed in her designs," says Marmontel, "she was no 
longer the same with D'Alembert, yet he not only endured her cold- 
ness and caprice, but often the bitterness of her wounded temper. He 
brooked his sorrows and complained only to me. Unhappy man ! 
Such was his devotion and obedience to her, that in the absence of M. 
Mora, it was he who used to go early in the morning to ask for Mora's 
letters at the post office, and bring them to her to read when she 
awoke." 

Yet she was all this while attached to a third person, M. D' Gilbert, 
and in her letters addressed to him, she did not hesitate to declare 
that she was most ardently in love with both at the same time. In 
the very letter in which she addresses M. D' Gilbert in terms of the 
most passionate adoration, she makes him the confidant of her un- 
speakable devotion and unalterable love for M. Mora ; and when M. 
Mora died, she continued to love his memory just as ardently as she did 
the person of his living successor : her letters are divided between ex- 
pressions of heart-rending grief and unbounded attachment — between 
her desire to die for M. Mora, and her delight in living for M. D'Gil- 
bert. Such was the brutish confusion and sneaking meanness of these 
Luciferians in the Pandemonium of Infidelity. 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



837 



by grief for her death, broke the spirit of D'Alem- 
bert, and embittered and enfeebled his latter days. 

Madame du Deffand survived her four years, and 
continued to preside in her own circle till extreme 
old age, and died in 1780, after a long life of eighty- 
three years. Her house had been, for fifty years, 
the resort of many of the most eminent literary men 
of the age, where they unbent their minds, and 
talked easily and familiarly to their female friends 
of their own works, and made and repeated all sorts 
of jokes upon them with unfeigned gayety and indif- 
ference. Yet, during her long and festive life, Mad- 
ame du Deffand knew not one happy day. Her 
jealousies and antipathies were continually fanned 
to a flame by the many factions which then divided 
the fashionable and literary societies of the French 
capital. Courted and flattered as she was to the last 
by the great and the gay, she was daily devoured by 
ennui, and her own discontented spirit. She did lit- 
tle else but importune her gallants, and annoy them 
with her murmurs and self-commiserations. A stran- 
ger to that active kindness and generosity which can 
make the worst condition delectable, she lamented 
that she had ever been born ; she complained of ex- 
istence as an irreparable evil, and yet, as well she 
might, confessed her unwillingness to die. 

An equally brilliant though less formal and exclu- 
sive coterie of the time, was that of Madame Geof- 
frin. This lady was the daughter of a valet de cham- 
hre, and the widow of a glass manufacturer. She 
was ignorant not only of syntax, but of orthography 
as well. She laid the foundation of her reputation 
by making herself the centre of a circle of artists and 

P 



838 



CONVERSATION- CLUBS. 



men of letters. She had been much in the confidence 
of Madame de Tencin, and, on that lady's death, suc- 
ceeded in attracting around herself those who re- 
mained of that illustrious circle, dimmed as it was by 
the departure of Montesquieu and Fontenelle. By 
activity and energy, she widened the circle till it em- 
braced many of the first literary men in the nation. 
She never made visits herself — was absolute in her 
admissions and exclusions, bold in her sarcasms, free 
and blunt, often to rudeness, in her opinions and ob- 
servations ; and severe or kind to all by turns, as her 
caprice suggested. Having once gained her high po- 
sition, she did not assume the subdued and cautious 
tone of one who felt she was in danger of breaking 
the social rules of a fastidious aristocracy. A sim- 
plicity and freedom accompanied all her actions, and 
she courageously adopted what she regarded as be- 
coming to herself rather than what seemed fit in the 
eyes of others. She delighted in lively discussion 
and in the paradoxes which always provoke people 
to it, as the following incident will show. The Mar- 
quis de Saint Lambert, the author of a poem entitled 
Des SaisonS) once introduced to her Galliani, known 
as the author of several works on political economy. 
Madame Geoffrin received him kindly, as she did 
every one presented by the Marquis, The economist 
was punctual in his visits to her for many months. 
One day, when he was entering her mansion, a do- 
mestic stopped him, and said, very gravely, that his 
mistress could not receive him. "What! has she 
gone out?" "No, but she cannot receive you." 
" But is she sick ?" " Monsieur, pardon me," replied 
the servant, "I can only repeat what I before said : 



AND CONVEKSATIONISTS. 



339 



Madame cannot receive you." This, of course, was 
not to be resisted, and Galliani bowed to the domes- 
tic, and departed. He went immediately to seek his 
friend — told him he had been discarded, and asked 
him what indiscretion he could have been guilty of, 
to produce such coldness on the part of Madame 
Geoffrin. Saint Lambert took out of his pocket a let- 
ter which he requested his friend to read. It was 
from Madame Geoffrin, and was written thus: "I 
shall shut my doors upon your learned acquaintance, 
dear Marquis. His society is insupportable. He 
states too many facts — makes assertions which are 
undeniable, and is always in the right." These few 
words enlightened, all at once, the learned man ; and 
Saint Lambert took the opportunity to caution him 
against wearying his hearers by constantly and me- 
thodically dwelling upon facts without advancing 
disputable opinions. Accordingly the political econ- 
omist adopted a new system for the barter of thought, 
and, by advancing paradoxes and singular proposi- 
tions, was restored to the favor of Madame Geoffrin. 
In fact, he became one of the most entertaining and 
delightful conversationists in that coterie from which 
he had been so harshly expelled. 

Delille, at the conclusion of his poem, La Conver- 
sation, has given us a delineation of Madame Geof- 
frin as the president of the literary society that met 
at her house on Wednesday evenings — a delineation 
which has received an overwrought coloring from the 
partiality of friendship and the demands of rhyme. 
He says it was not till the decline of her glory that 
he became a member of her coterie. The brilliance 
of her powers was not obscured by years. In old age 



840 



CONVERSATION - CLUBS, 



she drew around her easy chair a triple circle of ad- 
miring visitors from all parts of Europe. She exer- 
cised a firm, artless, and gentle supervision in her 
salon^ stifling contradiction in the birth, but encour- 
aging the wrestlings of free opinions, chiding with 
good humor, and praising with judgment, assuring 
the timid, and calming the fierce, comforting the 
ugly, and warning the beautiful ; in a word, if we 
may credit Delille, uniting in herself all the qualities 
that go to make up the corypheus of a conversation 
meeting. Delille was introduced to her acquaint- 
ance at a period when age would naturally have 
given some check to her offensive energy and inde- 
pendence ; causing her to appear to better advantage 
than she had done in early life. 

Benevolence was a strong trait in her character. 
The poor were fed and laborers encouraged by her 
liberal bounty ; and many were the poor authors and 
artists that were gladdened by her patronage and 
generosity : she would confidentially inquire into 
wants of youthful talent, and as confidentially supply 
them. "When she was no more, Delille burst forth in 
an affecting apostrophe of gratitude to her for the 
offer of relief which his proud poverty had declined. 40 
Yet this great leader of conversation, who harbored 
in her house some of the principal deists of her 
time, the friend of Hume, D'Alembert, and D'Hol- 
bach, was sneered at as weak enough to have a turn 
for secret devotion. She had an apartment in a con- 
vent of nuns, and a gallery in the church of the Ca- 
puchins. But her devotions were kept in such deep 
mystery as not to be annoying even to infidels ; they 

40 See close of Chant HI. La Conversation. 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



341 



were pleased that she did not carry her piety into so- 
cial life, and amused themselves with her inconsist- 
ency and superstition. 41 

It was at this time the rage to hold entertainments 
at private houses, according to the arrangements and 
etiquette of a public cafe. Among the amusements 
then fashionable were pantomimes and acted ta- 
Meaux, in which each took a turn. At one of these 
routs we find Hume seated in the character of a sul- 
tan, between two obstinate beauties, as if intending 
to strike his own bosom, but really aiming a blow at 
theirs, and accompanying his acting with character- 
istic exclamations. J$ot all their meetings, however, 
were scenes of such contemptible fooleries ; some were 
chiefly devoted to conversations in which, however, 
scepticism, credulity, and presumption found free ex- 
expression ; while flattery went beyond all bounds. 
When poets despaired of flattering any one by their 
verses, it went hard with them but they would con- 
trive, in some way, to puff up his vanity. Madame le 
Page du Bocage, a rival of Madame Geoffrin, desired 
to be reputed a poetess. Voltaire labored long to 
write a quatrain in praise of her miserable verses ; 
but the muse, refusing to obey his call, he overcame 
the difficulty by twisting some laurel twigs into a 
wreath, and placed it on her brow. 

The French ladies of that age, passing a great part 
of their time in public, had no relish for the sweets 
of domestic life, and were consequently denied all 

41 See the works of Grimm, Marmontel, Bauchemont, and La Harpe, 
Also, Edinburgh Review, article on Memoires de Marmontel, vol. vii., 
p. 358, on Deffand's and Lespinasse's letters, vol. X7., p. 409, and vol. 
xviii., p. 290 ; Life and Correspondence of Hume, by J. H. Burton, 
Esq., vol. ii., p. 207. 



342 



CONVERSATION- CLUBS. 



the solid happiness to be derived from household 
tastes and attachments. Their affections were scat- 
tered among many competitors, and their attention 
occupied with an incessant variety of amusements. 
They talked with a kind of soulless gayety, not only 
of the follies of their associates, but of their greatest 
misfortunes as well : knowing no true friendship, and 
no devoted love, they were incapable of feeling any 
deep sympathy for the sufferings of their most inti- 
mate companions, whose sorrows they made a jest of, 
whose calamities they condoled in epigrams, and 
whose deaths they witnessed or applauded as capital 
comedies. 

Let us now cross over to London, and look in upon 
the famous "Literary Club" which had, about this 
period, reached its highest prosperity. This society, 
which numbered among its membership the brilliant 
names of Johnson, Burke, Reynolds, Goldsmith, and 
Garrick, was at first not to exceed the number of the 
muses; but, from 1763 to 1777, it increased to twenty, 
at which time there was an addition of six more. In 
one of his letters, Johnson writes : " It is proposed to 
augment the club from twenty to thirty, of which I 
am glad ; for, as we have several in it which I do 
not like to consort with, I am for reducing it to a 
mere miscellaneous collection of conspicuous men, 
without any determinate character." But it has 
always continued to be essentially a literary club. 
In 1791, the number of members was thirty-five. 
The club, as it stood in 1829, enrolled on its records, 
among the names of other distinguished persons, 
those of Professor Buckland, Francis Chantrey, Dr. 
Copleston, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Sir James Mackin- 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



343 



tosh, and Sir "Walter Scott. At first it met at some 
tavern one evening in every week at seven o'clock, 
and generally continued its conversations till a pretty 
late hour — so late that Sir John Hawkins, one of 
Johnson's biographers, seceded from the society on 
account of its interfering with his domestic arrange- 
ments. About three years from its institution, it was 
resolved, instead of supping weekly, to dine together 
once a fortnight during the meeting of parliament. 
At the meetings of the club, the chair was taken by 
the members in alphabetical rotation. A unanimous 
vote was necessary to the admission of a new mem- 
ber, a single black ball excluding a member. The 
talk was miscellaneous, but chiefly literary, politics 
alone being excluded. Boswell has, in only one in- 
stance, ventured to give in any detail the conversa- 
tions of the club. 44 He has recorded other talks 
which seemed to have passed in the club ; but as he 
usually suppresses the name of the society, and gives 
the remarks of Johnson, and his own, the foreground, 
even where it is evident that others took a prominent 
part in the conversation, it is not always easy to de- 
cide where the colloquy took place. Both felt a 
lively interest in its meetings. Johnson regarded the 
hours he spent in them as the happiest of his life, 
and he would often plume himself on his sagacity 
in selecting its original members. Johnson was so 
constant at its meetings that he never absented 
himself. He came late, stayed late, and was often 
the last to go home. Boswell rejoiced to learn that 
Johnson pronounced him "a clubable" man, and 

*■ See Boswell's Life of Johnson, (Crocker's Edition,) vol. ii. April 
13th, 1778. 



344 



CON VERS AT ION -CLUBS. 



seems to have thought his admission to this society 
the greatest of mortal honors. In their tour to the 
Hebrides, they beguiled the tedious stages of their 
journey by fondly recalling the high character of the 
club. " I started a thought this afternoon," says Bos- 
well, " which amused us a great part of the way. I 
said, ' If our club should come and set up in Saint 
Andrews as a college to teach all that each of us 
can, in the several departments of learning and taste, 
we should rebuild the city, we should draw a won- 
derful concourse of students.' " They then fell to dis- 
tributing the offices among the members. 

At a club Johnson was in his element ; his love 
for such institutions is seen in his definition of the 
name : " an assembly of good fellows meeting under 
certain conditions." Besides the literary club he be- 
longed to others less intellectual, at which he de- 
lighted to preside as symposiarch. A gentleman 
once venturing to say to him, " I wonder sometimes 
that you condescend so far as to attend a city club," 
he replied : "Sir, the great chair of a full and plea- 
sant club is, perhaps, the throne of human felicity." 
In opposition to some, who, having wives and children, 
said they preferred domestic enjoyments to those 
which a tavern affords, he made the following con- 
fession : "As I enter the door of a tavern I experi- 
ence an oblivion of care, and a freedom from solici- 
tude ; when I am seated, I find the master courteous 
and the servants obsequious to my call, anxious to 
know and ready to supply my wants ; wine there ex- 
hilerates my spirits, and prompts me to free conver- 
sation, and an interchange of discourse with those 
whom I most love ; I dogmatize and am contradict- 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



345 



ed, and in the conflict of opinions and sentiments I 
find delight." In the pursuit of pleasures like these, 
Johnson was too often drawn into the society of epi- 
cures who did not improve his morals and keep him 
mindful of the great purposes of life. At club meet- 
ings, as, indeed, he did everywhere, Johnson led the 
conversation, though he was far from being a monol- 
oguist. He would allow himself to be interrupted, 
and his assertions were of a nature to call out all the 
intellectual forces of the circle, instead of keeping 
them down : yet, when he had once called them out, 
he gloried in putting them to rout by the blows and 
" whiffs of his fell sword." 

Johnson usually spoke in a coarse, bow-wow tone, 
which was now and then relieved by mutterings, 
puffings, gruntings and growlings, while his mouth 
was tortured with convulsive twitches, and his gi- 
gantic and ungainly body rolled like an elephant. 
His address was often rude and occasionally fero- 
cious ; yet in certain points he insisted upon being 
very ceremonious, and always exacted the most po- 
lite treatment from others. Few men were better 
versed in the etiquette of the court and the drawing- 
room, or could turn a more delicate and graceful 
compliment, yet no man outraged conventional forms 
with so little compunction. He would insist upon a 
whole company's rising when a lady came into the 
room, and five minutes after, perhaps he would drive 
her out by his personalities. He was vain of the so- 
ciety of ladies, and could make himself agreeable to 
them when he chose ; and few indeed were the fair 
frequenters of the assemblies where he was the ora- 
cle, who did not one time or another carry home with 



846 



CONVERSATION- CLUBS. 



them some piece of flattery, on which they set a high 
value, as an offset to the abuse which had crimsoned 
or blanched their faces. He criticised Mrs. Mont- 
ague's Essay on Shakspeare without mercy, and then 
dealt out to her strains of the most fulsome pane- 
gyric, telling her she was little inferior to queen Eli- 
zabeth. To Miss Monkton, who insisted that some 
of Sterne's w T ritings were very pathetic, he said : 
"Why, that is because, dearest, you're a dunce." 
When she sometime afterwards mentioned this to 
him, he said : " Madam, if I had thought so, I cer- 
tainly should not have said it." He would flatter 
Hannah More in no measured terms, but when she 
quit scores in the same coin, he begged she would 
consider how much her flatteries were worth before 
she choked him with them. He drove Dr. Percy out 
of the room by his animadversions, and went on dis- 
coursing without taking any notice of it. He even 
boasted of having spoken to Mr. Melmoth so rough- 
ly as to make him whistle with surprise. He was 
hard-hearted enough to send Goldsmith home wound- 
ed in spirit, without taking any pains to beg his par- 
don at the time. There was scarcely one of his 
friends that he did not affront, and there was but 
one person who could bear his insolence and rage ; 
this was Dr. Mayo, a man of calm temper, who, be- 
cause he never flinched under the strokes of his sat- 
ire, received the epithet of the " Literary Anvil." 
Of his inattention, he sometimes made his boast. 
"When," says he, "Mr. Vesey talked to me one day 
concerning Catiline's conspiracies, I withdrew my at- 
tention and thought of Tom Thumb." On one occa- 
sion, at least, he made no bones of uttering double 



AX D CONVERSATIONISTS. 



347 



meanings, which set a bevy of ladies tittering and 
blushing, and made Hannah More slyly hide her 
face behind a lady's back who sat next to her. Ever 
generous and humane towards bodily pain and dis- 
comfort, he made nothing of wounding pride, shock- 
ing modesty, and torturing envy. 

As a reasoner he was ready in exposing the false tes- 
timony, and detecting the fallacies of an opponent, but 
his own arguments were too often crippled by some vul- 
gar prejudice or some superstitious scruple. There 
was in his mind a singular compound of credulity and 
scepticism. When any one related to him a plain 
matter-of-fact, the likelihood was that he would say 
in his haste all men are liars ; when told of marvels 
and miracles that bore the fabulous on the face of 
them, he commonly listened agape with childish 
wonder. This grew in part out of his love for para- 
dox, in which feature he bore a strong resemblance 
to the wits of Madame Geoflrin's salon ; to this 
source is to be attributed the strange lack of uni- 
formity and consistency in his opinions ; it being 
his custom to be in the opposition, to whichever side 
of the question he might be driven. At one time 
good, and at another, evil was predominant in the 
moral constitution of the world. Now he would de- 
plore the non-observance of Good Friday, and now 
deny that there was any decline in the observance 
of religious festivals. He would sometimes contra- 
dict self-evident propositions, such as, that the lux- 
ury of the country had increased with its riches, and 
that the practice of card-playing was more general 
than formerly. He would meet a sound argument 
with a "What then, sir ?" or a "You do not see 



848 



COKVEESATION -CLUBS. 



your way through the question, sir or, " Sir, you 
talk the language of ignorance and when he was 
compelled to give his assent, which he always did 
reluctantly, he would preface it with a " Why, no 
sir." His dogmatism gave great animation to his 
talks. In companies where the presence of great 
lords, ladies and literati tended to freeze the current 
of fellow-feeling into hard formalities, and where 
pedantry and a conceit of infallibility would else 
have chilled the whole social atmosphere — in such 
companies there was needed a man who spoke out 
roughly and aloud — who received not any man's 
opinions, and trusted not to any man's reasonings, 
though he put forth the boldest sophisms himself. 
He contradicted for victory rather than truth, and his 
constant aim to get the better of his adversary viti- 
ated his mode of argumentation. In attaining his 
low purpose he endeavored to set the character of his 
antagonists in a bad light ; fearing, as he said, that 
if he gave them a good character, auditors would 
conclude that they were engaged on the right side. 
And then people undoubtedly felt a kind of savage 
pleasure in hearing his personalities and witnessing 
their effects : fine ladies saw him wound and kill 
his man with much the same sensations that their 
Roman sisters felt in seeing the combats of bloody 
gladiators. 

Nevertheless, we shall lose our clue to the charac- 
ter of Johnson as a conversationist, if, as many have 
done, we allow it to escape us that he was a great 
humorist As those who noted down his talks could 
not transcribe his humor, and have not always toli 
us with what air and tone he spoke, much that, 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



349 



viewed apart from his singular address, seems fiend- 
ish to us, did really overwhelm the company with 
gusts of laughter. Some persons are surrounded 
with nitrous oxyd — with a kind of laughing gas. 
They exercise a strange lordship over your risible 
faculties ; you cannot approach them without a 
smile, and their gravest remarks make you laugh 
outright. Of this sort was the humor of Johnson. 
It dulled the edge of his sarcasms, and blunted the 
point of his rebukes ; it made even his rudeness 
pleasant, and gave an air of mock-heroic to his mad- 
dest onslaughts. In buffoonry he knew no match, 
though he did not often indulge himself in it, and 
when he did it was for the purpose of burlesquing 
false wit. When Warburton would on one occasion 
have passed with him for a man of pleasantry, John- 
son aped his manner so exactly that he put him quite 
out of countenance. 

He aimed to talk his best on all occasions, and 
never brought out his thoughts in an undress. The 
language that fell from his lips, so unlike that which 
ran from his pen, was plain, pointed, and forcible ; 
what time his mind was stirred, as if by some spirit 
of inspiration, his thoughts flamed up into the most 
lofty and splendid eloquence. Like most great con- 
versationists he excelled in recitation, though he 
rarely repeated pieces of any great length ; mostly 
limiting himself to a few English or Latin verses 
that naturally fell in his way. 

Such were some of the characteristics of Johnson's 
conversation. To describe them is little more than 
to enumerate bad qualities. He combined in him- 
self the worst faults of all other talkers, with not a 



850 



CO N VERS AT I ON- CLUBS. 



few that were peculiar to himself, and yet was he 
the greatest conversationist of the time. His reas- 
oning powers, his ready and finished eloquence, his 
humor, his memory, having at its command large 
acquisitions in many departments of human knowl- 
edge, seem first to surround and then to cover his 
defects with a flood of glory. Albeit his intellectual 
powers, in which his pre-eminence consisted, cannot 
be appropriated by imitation, and so far as the pro- 
prieties of conversation are concerned, he should be 
looked upon rather as a beacon to warn, than as a 
chart to follow. 

The moral tone of his conversation in his earlier 
days, when judged by the standard of the age, was 
high ; when judged by the standard of the gospel it 
was low. Though he often condemned impiety, in- 
justice, and vice, the ethics of his conversation was 
at this time a singular medley, never much higher 
than that of Plutarch or of Seneca, sometimes that 
of the trickster, the epicure, and the quibbler. He 
carried his love of paradox, where it ought never to 
be carried, into his discussions of moral and religious 
questions ; and stickler as he was for certain theolog- 
ical tenets, he felt little concern about reducing them 
to practice. Though he liked to sit down and talk 
with Wesley, and spoke in high terms of the self- 
devotion and zealous labors of his preachers, he had 
little sympathy with the dissenters in general, and 
was more charitable to men of bad morals who would 
receive his creed than to evangelical men who would 
not admit his interpretations of the Thirty-nine Arti- 
cles. At one time he had no higher notion of Chris- 
tianity, than that it was a revelation of the immortal- 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



351 



ity of the soul and of the atonement, than that it 
was merely designed as an exhibition of the Divine 
hatred of sin. As the infirmities of age began to 
creep upon him, and as the companions of his prime 
one after another dropped off, his piety grew to be 
more consistent and fervent, though to the last it was 
clouded with melancholy and superstition. Religion 
was always rather an awful than a pleasurable matter 
in his mind : till his dying days he seemed to be 
under the law and not under grace, occupying him- 
self more with the forms and minor observances of 
religion, than with its principles and inward work- 
ings. Neglecting the root of piety in himself and 
others, he pruned the branches and then complained 
that little or no good fruit was borne. He now 
frequently spoke out in censure of the levity and 
dissipation which prevailed among many of the 
clergy of his day ; he once reproved Dr. Maxwell 
for saying grace without mentioning the name of our 
Lord Jesus Christ. When Boswell was about to 
embark for the Continent, Johnson took him into a 
church and said to him, " Commend yourself to your 
Creator and Redeemer. 55 Once delighting in com- 
panions where oaths were frequent and loud, he now 
would not allow any one to swear before him : when 
a libertine, but a man of some note, was interlarding 
his stories with oaths, Johnson said, " Sir, all this 
swearing will do nothing for our story ; I beg you 
will not swear. 55 The narrator went on swearing; 
Johnson said, " I must again entreat you not to swear. 5 ' 
He swore again — Johnson quitted the room. His 
death-bed conversations were truly evangelical. When 
he took leave of Mr. Windham, he said with great 



352 



CONVERSATION -CLUBS. 



fervor, " God bless you, my dear Windham, through 
Jesus Christ. May we share some humble portion 
of that happiness which God may finally vouchsafe 
to repentant sinners." He often said to his servant, 
"Attend, Francis, to the salvation of your soul, 
which is the object of greatest importance." He 
persuaded Sir Joshua Reynolds to promise he 
would not paint on Sundays, and read the Bible 
whenever he had opportunity, and never omit it on 
Sundays. To Dr. Brocklesby he said : " Doctor, you 
are a worthy man, but I am afraid you are not a 
Christian. What can I do better than offer up in your 
presence a prayer to the Great God that you may be- 
come a Christian in my sense of the word ?" After 
a fervent prayer, he added, "My dear Doctor, be- 
lieve a dying man — there is no salvation but in the 
sacrifice of the Lamb of God." When we think how 
intent he now was upon the salvation of his friends, 
we cannot help regretting that more of his long and 
influential life was not spent in conversations like 
those of his last days. His conversazioni would have 
become "spiritual routs," as Whitefield used to call 
the drawing-room congregations to which he preach- 
ed ; and his words would have fallen like the dew, 
as they did along with it, reviving many a drooping 
and dying soul. He would have drawn the children 
of Nicodemus to his house by night, to inquire into 
the mysteries of the kingdom. He would have es- 
tablished in many of the gorgeous halls of London 
the principles of the Nazarine, and at last gathered 
around his grave many sons of glory, at whose new 
birth he had assisted, to mingle tears of sorrow and 
gratitude over their common loss. 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



853 



In close correspondence with the " Literary club," 
was the famous "Blue Stocking Club," which met on 
the same day that the "Literary Club" dined together 
at Turk's Head, or some other tavern. In the eve- 
ning, the members of the Literary Club were invited 
to Mrs. Montague's, Mrs. Yesey's, Mrs. Garrick's, or 
Mrs. Boscawen's, or wherever else the Blue Stock- 
ing Club assembled. The origin of the name of the 
club was this : One of the most eminent members of 
this society was Mr. Benjamin Stillingfleet, the author 
of a poetical essay on Conversation, which is to be 
found in the first volume of Dodsley's collection. 
His dress was remarkably plain, and he always wore 
blue stockings. He was an excellent converser, and 
his absence was felt to be so great a loss that it used 
to be said : " We can do nothing without the Blue 
Stockings," and thus by way of pleasantry this title 
was established. A Frenchman of distinction, whose 
name is hid in the deepest obscurity, supposing this 
to be the real name of the party, innocently called it 
Bas Bleu, the corresponding appellation in his own 
language, and now given to women who are devoted 
to literary pursuits. These gatherings were composed 
of persons of distinguished rank, talents, and respect- 
ability, who met for conversation, and were different 
in no respect from other parties, but that the com- 
pany did not dance, and did not play at cards. They 
had no supper, but refreshed themselves with tea, 
milk, lemonade, and biscuits ; and when the Literary 
Club adjourned to meet with them, they had sour 
crout. Hannah More has given some account of 
this club in her Bas Bleu, a poem, in which sev- 
eral members of the Literary Club are introduced, aa 



854 



CON VEKS AT I ON -CLUBS. 



Johnson, under the name of Cato ; Garrick, under 
the name of Boscius, and Burke, under that of Hor- 
tensius. The poem is addressed to Mrs. Vesey, a 
lady distinguished more for her good sense, taste, and 
amiability, than for learning and conversational skill. 
These gatherings were often at her house. She had 
the good-natured fault of sending out too many in- 
vitations ; at one of her parties almost every nation of 
Europe was usually represented. Her companies were 
so large and variegated as not to be the most favorable 
to conversation, and so Miss More, Mr. Walpole, and 
Mrs. Carter were chosen a committee to invite or ex- 
clude at pleasure ; but the benevolent and sweet- 
tempered Mrs. Yesey could not help inviting every 
agreeable creature that came in her way. She was 
remarkable for her skill in breaking up the formality 
of a circle, by inviting her parties to form themselves 
into little separate groups so that all might join in 
the conversation, and persons coming in could peep 
into the various circles, and fix upon that which they 
liked best ; and when new circles were formed in the 
course of the evening, they could if they desired join 
a new group. Hannah More has celebrated this 
lady's talent this way in the following lively lines : 

" Small were the art that would insure 
The circle's boasted quadrature. 
See Vesey's plastic genius make 
A circle every figure take ; 
Nay, shapes and forms that would defy 
All science of Geometry. 
The enchantress wav'd her hand and spoke 1 
Her potent wand the circle broke ; 
The social spirits hover round, 
And bless the liberated ground." 



AND CONVEKSATIONISTS. 355 



When Dr. Johnson or Mr. Stillingfleet came in and 
took the great chair, the whole company would col- 
lect around him, till they sometimes became no less 
than four, if not five, deep ; those behind standing 
and listening over the heads of those who. were sitting 
before. The conversation would for some time be 
carried on by two or three distinguished persons, 
and if at length the talk became more general, the 
company would fall away into separate groups. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Montague, the founder of the club, 
and at whose splendid mansion in Portman square it 
frequently met, had acquired some celebrity as the 
author of an Essay on the Genius of Shakspeare, 
was a childless widow of ample fortune, and one of 
the finest ladies of that day. Her mind was active 
and well cultivated, with strong reasoning powers, and 
her conversation was a constant stream of valuable 
thought — a very river flowing with golden sand. 
She lived in a style of generous hospitality, and for 
many years her house was open to the literary and 
fashionable world. She was sometimes honored with 
visits from the queen and other members of the royal 
family. Miss More makes honorable mention of her 
in the verse : 

" Boscawen sage, bright Montague." 

Conspicuous among the constellation of Blue Stock- 
ings, shone the lady first mentioned. She was the 
widow of Admiral Boscawen, and is thus panegyrized 
by Mrs. More, in her poem called " Sensibility :" 

" 'Tis this whose charms the soul resistless seize, 
And gives Boscawen half her power to please." 



356 



CONVERSATION -CLUBS, 



Her sensibility was probably refined by her afflic- 
tions, of which her life was a continual series. The 
death of her husband left her in great opulence ; she 
rode in a gilded chariot with four footmen. The 
friend and patron of literary men and women, she 
was not insensible to their flatteries ; when Miss 
More's Bas Bleu, in which her name is mentioned, 
came out, she dreamed that she was requested by a 
very large company to set it to music and sing it be- 
fore them. Nevertheless she was polite, humble, 
learned, judicious, and a very brilliant conversation- 
ist withal. Boswell says her manners were the most 
agreeable, and her conversation the best of any lady 
with whom he had the happiness to be acquainted. 

The Blue Stocking Club was often misrepresented. 
It was generally thought that it revived the absurdi- 
ties that had a century before been attributed to the 
Hotel de Rambouillet ; Miss More, in her Bas Bleu, 
defends the club against the prejudices that had 
gone abroad concerning it: she declares that the 
members were free from all the censurable errors 
that had been laid to their charge, such as those of 
pedantry, bad taste, levity, and detraction.. She also 
exposes the vulgar error that learned ladies are 
doomed to be second-rate in literature, and worthless 
in domestic life, insisting that the ladies of the club 
were not of that character, but 

" Ladies who point, nor think me partial, 
An epigram as well as Marshall ; 
Yet in all female worth succeed, 
As well as those who cannot read." 

All the members of the club were not the most se- 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 357 



lect ; in a society where there was no fixed rule of 
admission, it was of course impossible to keep out all 
improper persons : and then some who would merit 
admission for one quality, would deserve exclusion 
for another; and some unworthy characters would 
be introduced by the favor and partiality of their 
friends. They could not keep out some such men as 
Boswell, who, just come from dinners, where the bot- 
tle had circulated too freely, would talk loosely ; and 
there were some such men as Dr. Mounsey, who was 
frequently seen at Mrs. Montague's. He was a 
coarse humorist, swore and talked loudly, and at his 
death, directed in his will, that his body should not 
suffer a funeral ceremony, but undergo dissection, 
and after that treatment, be thrown into the Thames 
or wherever the surgeon pleased. 

Horace Walpole, in one of his letters, describes an 
attempt made by Lady Miller about this time to call 
back the customs of the Hotel de Rambouillet. 
There was held at her house near Bath, every Thurs- 
day evening, a "Parnassus Fair," where, among other 
ancient sports, bouts-rimes were revived. Themes and 
rhymes were distributed among the people of qual- 
ity then at Bath, who, by making verses to match 
them contended for the prize of honor. A Roman 
vase, decked with pink ribbons and myrtle, received 
the poetry which was drawn out on every festival. 
Six judges decided the merits of the compositions, and 
the successful competitor kneeled before Lady Mill- 
er, kissed her fair hand, and was crowned by it with 
myrtle. The collection thus made was superbly 
printed and published. Here the nobility of that 
generation read bouts-ri?nes on a buttered muffin by 



858 



CONVERSATION -CLUBS. 



her Grace the Duchess of Northumberland, and re- 
ceipts to make them by Oorydon. Dr. Johnson held 
the collection very cheap. "Bouts-rim&s" said he, 
" is a mere conceit, and an old conceit now. I won- 
der how people were persuaded to write in that man- 
ner for this lady." 

" A gentleman of my acquaintance wrote for the 
vase," replies one. 

" He was a blockhead for his pains." 

"The Duchess of Northumberland wrote." 

" Sir, the Duchess of Northumberland may do what 
she pleases ; nobody will say anything to a lady of 

her high rank. But I would be apt to throw 's 

verses in his face." 

Johnson was the last man that would have allowed 
the queen of such a farce to usurp his colloquial 
throne. He foresaw that if he should give way to 
this "Parnassus," it would prove a Yandal as deso- 
lating to conversation as quadrille or whist. Wal- 
pole called Lady Miller as romantic as Madame 
Scuderi ; and the Blue Stockings generally were of 
simpler manners and purer tastes than to regard it 
with any favor. 

There was another association of poetasters, which 
grew in part out of Lady Miller's coterie, called 
" The Delia Orusca Club," from one Robert Merry, 
who adopted the signature, Delia Orusca, in the 
printed effusions of his muse. The members of this 
confederacy flooded the newspapers and periodicals 
of the day with verses, in which the sins of tawdry 
affectation and false feeling were but poorly atoned 
for by occasional gleams of imagination and pathos.- 
Besides setting themselves up as literary dictators, 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



359 



they were in the habit of heaping the most fulsome 
flattery upon each other. Their bad taste, self-con- 
ceit, and absurd conduct, called forth William Gif- 
ford's " Baviad," a paraphrase on the first satire of 
Persius, abounding in personalities towards the ladies 
of this club. Fairer game for satire could not have 
been found ; still, it has been questioned whether 
these harmless but foolish creatures deserved to be so 
severely lashed ; and Gifford has been accused of be- 
traying a want of chivalry in this affair, and of not 
behaving as courteously as was to be expected, con- 
sidering the company he kept. Mrs. Piozzi, Mrs. 
Robinson, Robert Merry, Miles Peter Andrews, and 
Mr. Parsons were the penny candles among the far- 
thing rushlights of this strange association. 

It w r as in the meetings of the Blue Stocking Club 
that Hannah More began to unfold her powers as a 
conversationist. At this period, however, her intel- 
lectual and social, rather than her moral faculties, 
found eloquent expression. Literature was now her 
all-absorbing theme. Her talks were refined, mod- 
est, and benevolent, but they wanted a high purpose, 
and were too strongly seasoned with flattery ; and, 
though a high evangelical spirit was wanting, a re- 
markably strict moral principle always found in her 
a tongue. Mrs. Garrick called Miss More her chap- 
lain. The death of Johnson and of Garrick seems to 
have led her to take more sober and worthy views of 
the objects of life. She now sought occasions in 
which to speak frankly and pointedly on religious 
subjects ; but in promiscuous circles she did not so 
frequently start religious subjects, as extract from 
common themes some useful and awful truth, and 



860 



CONVERSATION-CLUBS. 



counteract the mischief of a popular sentiment by 
one drawn from religion. This sort of conversation 
fine people would, in a degree, endure ; and it was 
her opinion, that if she did any good in general soci- 
ety, it was in this way. Sometimes, however, she 
was ]bold to proclaim before the children of pomp 
and pleasure, what she considered duty and truth, 
even at the risk of being discarded ; but her personal 
reproofs were always mild, and she ever avoided per- 
sonalities. She was even too charitable towards the 
excesses or failures of her acquaintance ; and kept up 
intercourse with some persons of kindred intellectual 
tastes, with whom, as a Christian, she had nothing in 
common. Though flattery was one of the great sins 
of that age, after making all allowance for peculiar 
temptations, she was always a little too fond of be- 
stowing compliments on her friends ; but when they 
made a liberal return in kind, she was too wise to be 
deceived by them. Notwithstanding her success as a 
writer, she always had a low opinion of her literary 
productions, and if she ever patiently heard them 
praised, it was because she felt the need of encour- 
agement. She listened to criticisms on her own 
works with a candor and good humor that astonished 
the stranger, and in her strictures on the works of 
her contemporaries she showed none of the meanness 
of envy or of resentment ; and took peculiar pleasure 
in pointing out their merits. She hated detraction 
with a perfect hatred, and this drove her to such an 
excess of generosity as made her blind to the moral 
qualities of actions. Well-defined as her opinions on 
most important subjects certainly were, she was in- 
dulgent to all parties in the church and state ; it is a 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



861 



significant coincidence that Edmund Burke, Dean 
Tucker, and Mrs. Macauley called upon her the same 
morning ; fortunately in succession, as they were all 
at that time writing against each other. She had re- 
ceived, both from nature and grace, a tender sensi- 
bility, and she could not always help betraying it 
even in the most stately companies. The feeling ex- 
pressed itself not only in smiling and laughing, but 
in weeping as well. The only jewels she wore were 
the tears that upon occasion adorned her eyes ; nay, 
her heart also, for they were full of its sterling senti- 
ment : they were those legendary tears pf Eve, which 
hardened into pearls as they fell. 

Mrs. More was never guilty of ostentation and for- 
wardness, faults than which few others are more un- 
womanly. Accustomed to listen to others with the 
most flattering attention, she betrayed no anxiety to 
be heard or approved. Her fluency was not a gib- 
bering loquacity ; she had the scarce gift of saying 
much without seeming to take a leading part in the 
conversation. Robert Hall once being in company 
where some one inquired whether there was anything 
distinguishable in the manner of Mrs. Hannah More's 
conversation, immediately replied: "She talks but 
little, sir, on ordinary occasions ; and when she 
speaks, it is generally to make some pointed, senten- 
tious remark. Indeed, sir, she seems to be always 
lying in wait for such opportunities. The last time I 
was in her company, she spoke but once, and then 
some one complained how long in the summer gen- 
teel people remained in London, and how little of it 
they spent in the country. Another accounted for it 
by saying they did not leave town, from a principle 

a 



362 



CONVERSATION-CLUBS. 



of loyalty, till after the celebration of the king's 
birthday. 'Then/ said Mrs. More, 'the wickedest 
thing that George III. ever did, was being born on 
the 4th of June. 5 This, sir," continued Mr. Hall, 
" was the only sentence she uttered all the evening." 43 
If Mr. Hall could here speak of her taciturnity as 
a disparagement to her conversational gifts, what 
would he have said had she made any the least 
seeming attempt to eclipse one who loved to shine 
unobscured so well as he did ? Could Mr. Hall have 
been so dead to the charms of that beautiful timidity 
which taught her to listen in deferential silence to 
the oracles of conscious greatness ? Mrs. More could 
and did speak freely and copiously when she knew 
that others prefered her discourse to her attention. 
Still it was a virtue which became her sex, that she 
could brook a superior in an art in which she was 
known to excel. 

Admirably did she exercise her skill in calling 
out retired merit and giving heart to the timid ; 
she recognized the social equality of a company 
by dividing her kind attentions equally, but not 
officiously, among all, and by giving common sense 
as full a hearing as genius and learning. She had 
a turn for anecdote, lively strokes of wit, and par- 
ticularly excelled in recitation. In her old age she 
received at her cottage at Barleywood the visits of 
strangers, who came from all parts of the world to 
do homage to her genius. At this period her con- 
versations abounded with quotations from the scrip- 
tures ; with thoughts on experimental religion ; on the 
operations of benevolent institutions ; as, the progress 

« Morris' Life of Robert Hall. 



AND CONVEKSATIONISTS. 



363 



of the gospel in foreign lands and at home, especially 
through the agency of the Sunday school, and bible 
and tract societies. She showed admirable address 
in shaping her conversations to the motley sorts of 
people who came to see her. When two or three of 
her old friends paid her a visit, aged as she was, she 
would sit up talking with them till two o'clock in the 
morning ; and all the while the words would fly from 
one to the other as rapidly " as the bird of a battle- 
door." 

There was a something — call it considerateness if 
you please — that held her back fromu hasty and un- 
advised speeches. Few women have talked as much 
and as ably as she, and yet as carefully weighed 
their words and said so few that they could have 
wished to recall. What was it that kept her lips 
from evil and her tongue from guile? While the 
gay and the learned, in every circle in which she 
moved, plied the scourge of the tongue warmly and 
on all sides, what was it that forbade her engage in 
the cruel sport ? Why was it that, while gifted and 
nobly-born beauties were betrayed by their words 
into life-long sorrows, why was it that upon her lips 
continued the "law of kindness" and the lessons of 
virtue? This was it; the grace of God ruled her 
soul and carried her safely through all the mazes of 
society : like the heroine of Comus she carried in 
her bosom a talisman, and all who heard her words 
and saw her behavior, were compelled to say, 

" Sure something holy lodges in that breast." 

Oh, ye daughters of winged and winning speech, 
how dangerous is your gift, unless, like Mrs. More, 
you possess another and a better that can assist you 



364 CONVERSATION -CLUBS 



to use this aright? Without it you may possibly 
make a little better use of your tongues than did As- 
pasia or Ninon de PEnclos : yet you will fail of ded- 
icating this noblest organ of your frame to a holy 
and worthy purpose. 

Were it not too wide a departure from the practi- 
cal purposes of this work, we would like to sketch 
some of the features in the conversation of the Rev. 
Robert Hall and Sir James Mackintosh. 44 Though 
differently gifted, they were in many respects as 
brilliant conversationists as the world has yet ever 
known ; neither would such sketches be barren of in- 
struction ; but as it is our design to bring forward 
such conversationists only as may be regarded as 
types of the principal classes, we reluctantly pass 
these two great characters by, and dwell awhile on 
the conversation of Coleridge, one of the most singu- 
lar and surprising of talkers. 

To these names we might add those of Burke, Wesley, Sir Walter 
Scott, Sir Humphrey Davy, Sheridan, C. J. Fox, Thomas Moore, 
Miss Edgeworth, Brougham, Dudley Ward, D. Sharp, known in his 
day as "Conversation Sharp," Goethe, <fec, &c. Besides these, which 
belong to the eastern shores of the Atlantic, there have appeared on 
the western side, Franklin, Jefferson, John Randolph, Chief Justice 
Marshall,* President Dwight, John M. Mason, J. C. Calhoun, <fec., <fec. 



* Since the name of Washington, as a conversationist, must be 
omitted here, he being rather deficient in colloquial as well as orator- 
ical gifts, we cannot forbear bringing forward Judge Marshall's testi 
mony as to the attention Washington paid in early life to the forma- 
tion of proper manners. Writing to Mr. Sparks, the editor of the 
Washington Papers, he says : " I have read no part of these volumes 
with so much pleasure as the maxims under the head of ' Rules of 
Civility, and decent behavior in Company and Conversation.' These 
rules, of which I had never before heard, furnish a key with which to 
open the original character of this truly great man." 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



365 



Coleridge's voice was naturally clear, soft, and 
flexible, but in his last years it grew to be a nasal 
and snuffling tone. His eyes, which were large and 
hazel, were veiled with a soft haze or dreaminess. 
His manners were uniformly gentle and easy, and 
he had the art which few great men possess, of 
making conscious inferiors serene and tranquil in his 
presence. He was full of benevolence and sympa- 
thy, and could talk with ladies, even children in the 
most affable mode ; and when in the midst of high 
discourse if a lady, no matter who, entered the room, 
his tone was softened and his whole manner subdued 
by the charm of her appearing. Still he had neither 
taste nor talent for small talk ; he might sometimes 
talk for the sake of talking, and of whiling away 
irksome hours, but had no genius for that prattle 
which can glide from one trifle to another for the 
amusement of the idle ; his was a solemnity of spirit 
which kept away everything silly and gay. Wit he 
wanted not ; but it appeared oftener in sarcasm than 
in anecdote and banter. When he talked of the 
common and the concrete, his style was simple and 
natural ; when he came upon philosophy and theol- 
ogy his sentences grew involved, poetic, and occa- 
sionally obscure. Howbeit you could not listen to 
the strains of his metaphysics without being con- 
vinced that - he was indeed a magician in the use of 
words ; so rare and available was the wealth of his 
language. He had intermeddled with many kinds of 
knowledge, had been a man of travel and adventure, 
had viewed nature with the eye of a philosopher and 
a poet, and of course took pleasure in opening and ex- 
hibiting to all, the princely casket of his thoughts. He 



366 



CONVERSATION-CLUBS 



loved to dwell upon the subtleties of the Greek phi- 
losophies and of the schoolmen, on the freakish and 
changeful dreams of the German wisdom ; and then 
he had a philosophy of his own. This of course was 
his bantling ; the chief care of his life was to give it 
to the world, and he harangued upon it with fatherly 
fondness. In theology he was a Titan, and as he tore 
up and piled one mountain of speculation upon an- 
other, his friends looked on with doubt and dismay ; 
as he clambered up into the regions of aerial abstrac- 
tion, they trembled for his fate ; for he daringly in- 
quired, not why things exist as we find them^ but 
why they exist at all. In piling up his mountains 
he sometimes laid the beams of his chambers so deep 
in the waters that ordinary minds often failed to dis- 
cover the foundations. In treating political ques- 
tions he discussed general principles, not often de- 
scending to measures, hardly even to men. His 
mind loved to rise above facts, events, and evi- 
dences, that it might rest in eternal laws, or what 
he imagined such ; hence his conversation abound- 
ed in striking aphorisms and shrewd guesses at truth. 
History was not his favorite theme ; he lived neither 
in the past, present, nor future, but above all time : 
when he contemplated an old ruin, a celebrated 
plain, or river, it awoke no historical recollections ; 
he spoke of them as they appeared in the passing 
hour. If he was walking in the morning down High- 
gate Hill to London, he would take off his hat and 
address an impromptu hymn to the sun ; when he 
was looking on a midsummer sunset he would fall 
into a sort of trance, and with his eyes swimming in 
tears, lift up his hands and breathe a silent prayer ; 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



367 



then rouse himself, quote some old poet, and break 
forth in most enchanting utterances of his own. 
Often there was in Coleridge's conversation great 
individuality; he loved to wrap the seer's mantle 
about him, and utter such high and wondrous rap- 
tures as made his friends bow down as if blinded and 
awestruck before him. At such times he would look 
down upon their objections, and doubts, and attempt- 
ed interruptions, as the mutterings of sleepers, who 
knew not what they said ; yet they went home won- 
derfully enlightened, though they could not always 
tell in what respect : they felt marvellous experiences 
which they could not describe, and which it was not 
to be supposed that any but themselves could or 
ought to feel. On such occasions his thoughts were 
more logically connected than his sentences ; to the 
inattentive hearer, not a few of his transitions seemed 
but leaps in the dark ; but it was by reason of the 
immensity of the orbit in which his thoughts circled 
that he lost sight of them ; had he tarried longer, he 
would have seen them again as they came round on 
the other side. After he had come to be an opium- 
eater, if not in rare instances before, he did indeed 
talk ramblingly ; in other words, he would start from 
well-defined premises, perhaps, but come to no con- 
clusion ; or, as was often the case, start from no prem- 
ises, and come to a conclusion that ought to have 
been his premises. 

Madame de Stael, whom Coleridge visited at Cop- 
pet, said he was master of monologue, but that in 
dialogue he had no skill. There was some truth in 
this observation. He was known to talk almost in- 
cessantly for three or four hours together — sometimes 



368 



CONVERSATION-CLUBS 



a whole day; pouring forth his accumulated stores of 
reflection and feeling, and scattering broadcast and 
wastefully his gathered treasures of theosophy, meta- 
physics, criticism, and poetry. After fifty, he was 
confined to his own room many months in every 
year, so that he was not often seen except by single 
visitors, who used to listen with deep and unbroken 
attention to whatever he was pleased to say. He 
passed so much of his time in solitary thinking, that 
when any one came to see him, he felt it a relief to 
think aloud, but without ever breaking the thread of 
meditation which he still went on unwinding as be- 
fore ; so it was, that he came to be a continuous and 
rather exclusive talker. Still he did sometimes pause 
when the listeners desired to throw in a word of ob- 
jection or inquiry, which was seldom the case how- 
ever ; for they would as soon have thought of stay- 
ing the waters of the Amazon in their course as of 
checking the majestic flow of his dissertations; such 
wide and beauteous regions of thought did they tra- 
verse, and such green islands of novel ideas, brilli- 
ant metaphors and dreamy fancies did they pass in 
their way. 

Coleridge was more a reasoner than an argruer y 
being in the habit of throwing his intellect back upon 
its own powers, and leaving it to work out its own 
conclusions, without any help from others. He was 
not, like Johnson, a conversational gladiator ; he dis- 
liked the character, and could not often be provoked 
to enter the lists with any disputant, however honor- 
able ; he insisted on being allowed to reason in his 
own way, and on giving such a turn to a question as 
he liked best. Yet he was by no means a dry and 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



369 



tedious reasoner. No man, perhaps, was more suc- 
cessful in making his arguments attractive and en- 
tertaining to ordinary minds ; in his latter days he 
spoke in so musical a tone, so fluently and energetic- 
ally, and with such apt and striking illustrations, 
that he delighted even ladies with his discussions of 
Kant's metaphysics. He endeavored to make his 
reasonings serve some, though by no means the high- 
est practical purpose. He argued too much like a mere 
partisan. He once confessed to a friend that he was 
engaged in undermining at the same time the faith 
of a Jew, a Swedenborgian, and a Roman Catholic. 

Whatever may be our opinions of Coleridge's cha- 
racter or philosophy, thus much must be granted on 
all hands, that his was an ardent thirst after truth, 
and a disinterested pursuit of it. Tet he seems to 
have set a higher value on the discovery of truth 
than on the applications of it. He disowned the 
doctrine of expediency, not only in his philosophy, but 
in the uses of his conversations also. He often wasted 
his words, or, as a Hindoo would say, scattered jew- 
els in a jungle. It is a matter of regret that this 
motley-minded man did not discourse more earnestly 
on the obligations of practical faith ; his talks en- 
lightened the judgment, charmed the imagination, 
and refined the taste — would that they had equally 
benefited the heart. He overvalued the uses of a 
new philosophy, but did not enough consider how su- 
perior a Regeneration is to a Reformation, and that 
to save a soul, something more is needed than prob- 
ing the depths of human consciousness or filling the 
imagination with visions of the true, the beautiful, and 
the good, or offering criticisms on the sacred text, or 

Q* 



370 



CONVERSATION- CLUBS 



prying into the mysteries of providence and revela- 
tion, He burrowed so deeply into metaphysical 
science, scholastic erudition and speculative divinity, 
as to chill the compassionate ardor of his spirit, and 
remove him from the every-day-work of helping poor 
sinners up to the top of Golgotha along the steeps of 
repentance. Coleridge's faith was without works, 
and his words without actions to match them. We 
should consider the history of his closing years, and 
should recollect that even Southey lost all confidence 
in his moral character at that period, if we would 
form a true estimate of all his qualities as a man. 
And when I compare this sketch of his conversation 
with his general life, I am inclined to say of it, the 
name being changed, what he once said of Words- 
worth's portrait: "It looks more like Coleridge than 
Coleridge himself." 

There is now living in the northern hemisphere, a 
man whose conversation is so singularly original, 
learned and elegant, that I am moved to make some 
mention of it ; and though I cannot hope to do it any- 
thing like justice, yet to pass it by unconsidered, 
would be an atheistic disregard of the works of the 
Lord who made him what he is, and a withholding 
from the reader that would excel in conversation, 
one of the best patterns he can set up for imi- 
tation. 

What first strikes you in his conversation is his 
modesty, and his reluctance to open himself freefly 
to strangers ; and if you have gained access to his 
parlor with a view to hear him talk, without saying 
anything yourself, you presently find that he is no 
monologuist delighting to talk oracularly to large 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS 



371 



silent circles, or even to one tongueless person ; rather, 
that he prefers to converse with one or two friends 
who are willing to act the part of interlocutors as 
well as listeners. If you have come at the wrong 
time, or merely to gratify curiosity or to amuse an 
idle hour, the chances are that he will sit and wait 
for you to take the lead in the colloquy, all the while 
turning towards you his shoulder, his ear, and his 
profile. Finding nothing to say worth his hearing, 
as you stare at him, you call to mind the student 
that, when Goethe treated him in the same proper 
manner, had the face to take a candle in his hand 
and step around the genius, inspecting him as he 
would the statue of an enthroned Jupiter, then put- 
ting a piece of silver on the table, walked coolly out, 
without speaking a word. But knowing yourself to 
be the aggressor, you feel no impulses towards such 
an impertinence in his presence ; you remember too 
that he is naturally affable to all sorts of persons ; 
insomuch that little children come and sit at his feet 
that they may regale themselves with his talks. 
What next and ever strikes you, is his deep and 
broad scholarship, and his accurate and multifarious 
reading. When he gives you occasional glimpses of 
his vast stores of knowledge, you seem to yourself 
to be sitting down before the Egyptian Sphinx, 
whom some power has bidden to breathe and speak, 
and converted its vast cranium into a library contain- 
ing diamond editions of all the principal books that 
have ever blessed the world ; besides not a few rare old 
scrolls from the Alexandrian library, w^hich you sup- 
posed Omar had burnt long ago. There must be 
there, you are sure, cunabula and black-letter rarities 



372 



CON VEKSATION-CLUBS 



in great plenty, but no vacant shelves, and no succe- 
danea; and the speech of the Sphynx is so fluent 
and various that you fancy each leaf of every book 
is a tongue, uttering all that is upon it. Then, as 
original thoughts come dancing out to the sound 
of some low, gentle, and tremulous melody, your 
fancy enters another apartment of the cranium, 
and discovers that all this is not a mere talking 
library; for you cannot number the volumes of 
original ideas that are here arranged around you in 
orderly alcoves. When the Sphinx calls up some 
dim and far-off epoch in civil or ecclesiastical his- 
tory, cites some never-known or forgotten name — by 
no means on purpose to make a show of his erudi- 
tion, nothing further from his thoughts, but as a tell- 
ing proof or rich illustration of some great principle 
— when he does this, you think that the spirit of his- 
tory is in him the spirit of prophecy, and that the 
bygone is his interpreter of the passing and the 
coming. But the Sphinx, you observe, has a more 
comely countenance than the stern, weather-beaten, 
broken-nosed one you used to marvel at when a 
boy, in the " Seven Wonders of the World." The 
intellectually severe is softened by the benevolently 
mild, and especially by that innocent, good-natured 
curl at the corner of the lips, which Kubens has 
given to his young John the Baptist talking with the 
child Jesus. These, along with the soft, gentle, half- 
whispering tone that is natural to him, cause you 
quite to forget the Sphinx, and to feel that you are 
conferring cheek by jole with some tried and confi- 
dential friend. There are times however when, dis- 
mayed at his enormous learning, you think you are 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



873 



still sitting under the shadow of the awful Sphinx, 
and as you cast your eyes abroad, feel that you are 
stark alone amid the waste howling wilderness of 
your own ignorance. Then, again, you are gently 
caught up, and find yourself reclining in some groye 
of the south, lending your ear to the notes of the good- 
humored mocking bird ; and while he is criticizing 
contemporary authors, or quoting their best passages, 
or canvassing current opinions, you mark how skil- 
fully he imitates each peculiar note of the flocks of 
songsters that are embowered around him, and how 
he scorns to quote the cawings of the crow, the whis- 
tlings of the hawk, and the hateful dialects of other 
birds of prey, and how he never imitates the notes of 
even clean birds to burlesque them, but to admire 
them, and to join you in admiring them. This done, 
as is said to be the wont of his genus, he strikes up a 
song of his own, which, in your opinion, though not 
in his, is more ravishing than all the rest ; and you 
find that his power to sing the notes of the rarest 
birds abates not a jot of the originality and indepen- 
dence of his own peculiar song — a song which is 
none other than the free utterance of a soul that is 
fearless and modest, earnest and refined, poetic and 
strong. His music breaks through and entangles 
the measures and bars of other songsters, else it 
would not be his music. You say of many a sentence 
of his, what Quintilian says of the style of Seneca, 
abundat clulcibns mtiis^ — " It abounds with delightful 
faults." But his words are more than faultless ; they 
are full of the poetry of the Saxon : they are as an- 
tique as beautiful, as quaint as elegant, as pictur- 
esque as bold. Tou also witness how his mode of 



874 



CONVERSATION- CLUBS 



reasoning explodes the old precept, that you must 
first formally convince the understanding before you 
presume to approach the imagination or pay your ad- 
dresses to the heart; for he melts your reasoning 
powers, and imagination, and feelings into one in- 
tense co- working ; his illustrations at once affect you 
with the conviction of the most labored arguments, 
and move you with the persuasion of resistless ex- 
hortations. Then you notice with what ease these 
faculties act together, and yet equally well, and that 
they are always at command ; that in letting off his 
thoughts, he never hangs fire — never leaves any in- 
terval between the flash of the mind and the report 
of the lips. Yet this alertness does not, as it is apt to 
do in other men, tempt him to inflict on anybody 
flesh wounds of raillery, or chance-medley strokes of 
repartee, or to take part in the lighter game of small 
talk. Never did you hear from his lips anything of 
this sort; no never. Only you remember to have 
heard him once or twice, when the occasion called 
aloud for it, let fall a pleasant but irresistible sar- 
casm. In taking leave of him, you detect yourself 
loitering to pass one word more ; and when, much 
against the will, you drag yourself away, you cannot 
help fervently repeating to yourself those lines of Cow- 
per, which some suppose to refer to Rev. J ohn New- 
ton's conversation, and others to John Wesley's ; but 
you think they describe him whom you have just left, 
better than either of the others. 

" Oh, I have seen (nor hope perhaps in vain 
Ere life go down to see such sights again) 
A vet'ran warrior in the Christian field, 
Who never saw the sword he could not wield ; 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



375 



Grave, -without dullness, learned, without pride, 

Exact, yet not precise ; though meek, keen-ey'd ; 

A man that would have foil'd at their own play 

A dozen would-be's of the modern day ; 

"Who, when occasion justified its use, 

Had wit as bright as ready to produce ; 

Could fetch from records of an earlier age, 

Or from philosophy's enlighten'd page, 

His rich materials, and regale your ear 

With strains it was a privilege to hear ; 

Yet above all, his luxury supreme, 

And his chief glory, was the Gospel theme ; 

There he was copious as old Greece or Rome, 

His happy eloquence seem'd there at home, 

Ambitious not to shine, or to excel, 

But to treat justly what he lov'd so well." 

" Even these lines," you add, " come far short of con- 
veying a sufficient idea of his conversation. To those 
only who have heard him is it given to know what it 
is ; and neither poetry nor parables can describe it 
to them that have not." 

Pass we now to the subject of modern conversa- 
tion-clubs. Having already given some account of 
the most celebrated literary clubs which flourished 
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, we have 
forestalled much that might otherwise be said con- 
cerning the literary clubs of the present day ; inas- 
much as they bear a resemblance more or less close 
to the ancient clubs of Paris and London. Literary 
conversation-clubs are now as they ever have been, 
necessarily few in number, and those boasting no 
very long list of members. They meet regularly 
during only a part of the year ; and the greater num- 
ber of those clubs that are made up of staid literati 
know but a brief existence. Like the Spectator Club, 
the members, one after another, drop off till there 



876 



CONVERSATION - CLUBS 



are not enough remaining to constitute a meet- 
ing : Sir Roger de Coverly dies of a defluction, Will 
Honeycomb marries his tenant's daughter, and Cap- 
tain Sentry and Sir Andrew Freeport retire to their 
estates in the country. However, the curse of mor- 
tality which threatens them does not prevent their 
formation, nor keep them from compassing the design 
of their creation. 

The advantages growing out of these societies are 
almost too obvious to need any mention. They keep 
up a good understanding and brotherly communion 
among the members ; and afford occasion for mutual 
counsel and encouragement. Here they fling out their 
thoughts to air ; and if they are blown upon from 
all quarters so much the better ; their aroma is won- 
derfully improved by these breezes and counter 
breezes ; but where flattery, as it is apt to do, becomes 
fashionable in literary soirees, it makes the man of 
letters a Cyclops of one eye, and that in the occiput ; 
looking back with self-gratulation on what he has al- 
ready done, as he stumbles carelessly over what he 
has yet to do. In these, though less than in other 
clubs, there spring up names, signs, pass-words, and 
cant phrases, which strengthen the bond of fellow- 
ship by keeping up confidential recognitions and 
reminiscences. 

" The language to th' elect alone 
Is like the masons' mystery known. 
In vain the unerring sign is made 
To him who is not of the trade. 
What lively pleasure to divine 
The thought implied, the hinted line ; 
To feel allusion's artful force, 
And trace the image to its source." 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



377 



Here literati find what they do not always find else- 
where, appreciating ears and tongues that can give 
a right answer — the two arch-inspirers of social elo- 
quence. Here they may talk with all freedom of the 
biography of authors, the history of books, and all the 
jots and tittles of criticism, rising now and then to 
great national and international questions in litera- 
ture, religion, and politics ; sometimes wandering 
away from literary topics altogether. 

There flourish in great cities clubs of quite another 
kind ; and fearfully permanent and prosperous insti- 
tutions they are. They meet ostensibly for conver- 
sation ; but it is understood that eating, drinking, 
smoking, and gaming, are to come in for the chief 
share of attention. Wine and strong drink are 
invoked in songs, doggerels, and rhapsodies, as the 
inspirers of colloquial wit, poetic genius, and all 
generous and brotherly sentiments. The chair is 
taken perhaps by some veteran "fogy," who can 
remember the time when precedence in the club 
was given to every man according to his power of 
drinking a certain quantity of liquor, sitting in an 
erect position ; who piques himself on his skill in 
ascertaining the exact quality of wines, and on know- 
ing the best way to ice claret, and to make sherry 
cobblers. Other members attain to fame by an alac- 
rity at low humor, or insipid witticisms, or punning, 
or badgering, or ribaldry, or blasphemy. A glass or 
two quickens their tongues, so that they move with 
astonishing glibness, a few draughts more paralyze 
their vocal organs ; and voices that before ran up to a 
high key, now fall to mumbling and stammering; 
their ideas once so clear, grow muddy, till nonsense 



878 



CONVERSATION -CLUBS 



succeeds, and hiccups and snoring end the conversa- 
tion. Meeting, as they often do on Saturday night, 
they go or are carried home drunk on Sunday morn- 
ing. The Lord's day is divided between sleep, drug- 
ging a sick stomach, cooling a heated brain, and 
quenching a burning thirst. The effects of Saturday 
night's debauch are, in many cases, powerfully felt 
even on Monday morning, and relief vainly sought 
by a return to the bottle. We hope and pray the 
day will come, when such accounts of the symptoms 
of drunkenness will not be regarded as repetitions of 
what everybody knows, but as points in ancient his- 
tory, which shall excite the wonder and disgust of 
distant generations. 

In vain do the members of these clubs quote to us 
the rules by which they profess to be governed, so 
long as they practically disregard them ; so long as 
they notoriously sell themselves to intemperance and 
its attendant vices, in violation of all laws, human 
and divine. Nor would a more strict observance of 
their rules greatly mend their morals ; for the rules, 
to which they appeal with so much confidence, in de- 
fence of these societies, if narrowly inspected^ will be 
found to encourage the violation of one another. In 
proof of this, we will not quote the regulations of 
any modern club, lest we should lay ourselves open 
to the charge of exposing to public curiosity laws 
which were enacted for the initiated alone ; we will 
refer to the rules which were composed by the great 
moralist, Dr. Johnson, for the Essex Head Club — 
rules which we are willing to pit against those of any 
modern club of the kind. Among several rules en- 
joining decorum j we find one requiring each member 



AND CONVERSATIONISTS. 



379 



present to spend at least sixpence ; thus requiring the 
systematic growth of the appetites, and approving 
their most unlimited indulgence. Let us go still fur- 
ther back and look at Ben Jonson's Leges Convivales, 
which have for generations been considered the gol- 
den oracles of the club-room. He directs wisely and 
well: 

" Let the contests be rather of books than of wine ; 
Let the converse be neither noisy nor mute ; 
Let none of things serious, much less of divine, 
When belly and head's full, profanely dispute." 

But elsewhere in the same code we have the follow- 
ing admonition : 

" Let no sober bigot here think it a sin, 
To push on the chirping and moderate bottle," 

which if heeded, must, as all experience proves, lead 
to the infringement of the excellent rules before 
quoted ; nay, and of all excellent rules whatsoever. 
Apart from the habits of intemperance which these 
clubs beget and foster, they overrule the attractions 
of the domestic circle. We have seen in the case of 
Johnson, that a scholar capable of the highest intel- 
lectual pleasures, and strong in his domestic attach- 
ments, could forego all the sober comforts of home for 
the low gratifications of a sixpenny club at an ale- 
house. What charms then must invest a club-house 
furnished with every imaginable luxury of life, in 
the view of a man possessing, perhaps, not a tithe 
of Johnson's mental resources. We could call wit- 
nesses to this, but it is not necessary. These charms 
however have a dark side. In many cases the wife 
is left to evenings of solitude, or to society that is 



880 



CONVEKSATI OBT- CLUBS 



worse. Unassisted must she gather and keep the 
children round the family hearth, and provide for 
their amusement, instruction, and government. This 
were nothing for female patience to endure, compared 
with the soul-piercing reflection that other society 
has greater allurements for him than that of his wife 
and his children— that when he comes home, though 
late, he brings with him each night a worse heart, 
and a worse intellect, worse manners, and worse 
health — in short, every faculty and possession altered 
for the worse. Need we call down from heaven the 
spirit of one such broken-hearted wife, and bid her 
tell the story of her domestic woes — of all the tor- 
tures which a drunken and alienated husband can 
inflict on a kind and constant heart ; or need we call 
up from among the wassailers of perdition, the re- 
morseful spirit of her husband himself, and suffer 
him to howl out his dolors and warnings — need we 
do these things to convince the club-goer that this 
his way is his folly and his ruin ? No ; if he will not 
believe the evidence of his own senses, neither would 
he believe though one should rise from the dead. 
If he would believe the evidence of his own senses- 
would look abroad in the world, and consider the life 
and death of the mass of club-goers, and hearken to 
the unbribed witnesses within, above, and beneath 
him, all testifying against the institution, sure we are 
that he would break with his treacherous companions 
forever, and take up this self-adjuration: "Oh my 
soul, come not thou into their secret ; unto their as- 
sembly mine honor be not thou united." 



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